


remember when we were like gold

by StHarold



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bearding (brief), Bullying, Depression, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, non-au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:53:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StHarold/pseuds/StHarold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes realizing things takes time. When it comes to feelings, it gets even more complicated.<br/>Harry is okay with waiting. Louis doesn't like "complicated".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write something longer than my previous works, and I've had the idea sitting in my head for quite some time now. And ideas that remain in your head help no one, or so they say. This work isn't finished yet, but hopefully someone will enjoy it.  
> I apologize in advance for any mistakes there might be. English is not my first language and I don't know how to find a beta that would want to busy themselves with my writing. So please forgive me.
> 
> This fic might potentially contain mentions of alcohol use, drug use, emotional abuse and all those bad things normal people don't enjoy reading about. But if you made it to this sentence... well, welcome to the rock bottom, I guess. But if you're easily triggered by that kind of things, you'd better find some fluffy stuff to read.  
> Thank you.

Louis knows he shouldn’t ask, but he’s nosy like that, so naturally, he can’t help it.  
\- Have you ever... – he stops midsentence, not sure if he should go on.  
\- Have I ever?.. – Harry laughs, eyebrow raised, he looks at Louis.  
Right now they are in their hotel room, chilling after the second show of the Up All Night tour. Still buzzing with excitement, with all the energy they had left, they refuse to go to sleep just for the sake of it, because somehow it feels terribly wrong. Instead, Zayn, Niall and Liam headed to a nearest shop in hopes of buying some alcohol and cigarettes. Literally up all night to get lucky, Louis chuckles as he thinks to himself. And if they are lucky enough, Louis is going to be proper wasted, because he doesn’t like missing good opportunities. And having a day off tomorrow sounds quite like an opportunity to him. Louis’s been terrifyingly sober since the tour started and he’s not okay with this.  
\- Ever drunk something stronger than a cuppa?  
Louis was afraid the question might sound somehow offensive, and he would never mean to be rude to Harry or belittle him. He actually likes the boy so far. Sometimes he may come across as childish, infantile or goofy, but Louis has never thought these words had negative connotation anyway. So far so good.  
\- No, - Harry says, no trace of embarrassment or any hard feeling. He smiles, - ‘M not actually into it, - he blushes, an honest smile still on his face.  
\- Hmm… - Louis frowns, - No pressure, lad, you do know that, don’t you?  
Now this is when Harry looks offended.  
\- Heyyy, - he slightly pushes Louis with his elbow, - Thinking of getting rid of me already? Not gonna happen, - he smiles unabashedly, grinning as if he just said something funny.  
Aren’t his cheeks hurt from all this smiling? Louis could bet the boy is always smiling, at any given time of the day. He has his moments though, sometimes suddenly going quiet, putting the rest of the world on mute and existing in his own bubble for a while. But it’s not that Louis watches him or something. It’s just that you can’t ignore the silent void when his laugh is usually threating to burst your eardrums.  
\- No, I didn’t mean it like that, you fool. I’m just worried about you, child.  
\- Aww… you are turning into such a mother hen! And don’t you child me! You are only 3 years older, I’m not any more childish than you…  
\- Except you are, - Louis can’t help it, Harry was just born to be teased  
\- No!  
But then the door opens, and Niall, Liam and Zayn enter the room, the sound of glass tinkling fills the place (and the void in Louis’ soul).  
\- Lads, I expect you to tell me something that will make me happy, - he jumps from the sofa he and Harry were sitting on.  
\- Don’t you worry, - Zayn laughs, a devilish smirk on his face, - Got it covered, babe, - Zayn now looks at him, amusement flickering behind his eyes.  
\- Wow, you two, get a room! – Niall shouts, literally shouts like a 5 year old that he is, - Can’t stand all this tension!  
\- Would you please keep your comments to yourself, Nialler? Thank you very much, - Louis grins.  
It’s all banter of course, Niall always faux mocks them for being inseparable, ranting about “Zourry” being his OTP. Louis has no idea what that could mean, but he’s not sure he wants to know.  
Him and Zayn became friends right off the bat. If someone asked Louis to write down a definition of the word “bro” in order to put it into vocabulary, he’d just submitted a photo of Zayn. They clicked immediately – Zayn would never shut up about comics and his first experiences, be it smoking weed or having sex, about how this world doesn’t understand him and so on. Eventually Louis found himself spending a lot of time with the bloke, because he made Louis feel older, and that’s what Louis had been waiting for all his life. He wanted to grow up, because he was the one to help his mum raise all his sisters, thus prolonging his childhood fivefold. So Zayn was what he needed, and Louis was the only person to really get Zayn. Zayn is what Louis would call a philosopher.  
\- Well, we only got a bottle of whiskey, one of liquor and one of vermouth, special delivery for the baby, - Zayn smiles, obviously very glad to get a chance to kid Harry… again.  
He is constantly talking to Louis about how much Harry annoys him, and Louis has no idea where this comes from, but doesn’t really mind. Harry’s reaction is always so funny. He usually blushes and gets offended, but not for long. Sometimes he creates this bubble around himself and doesn’t talk to anyone, even Niall. But, Louis pulling a funny face is all it takes to get him snapped out of it.  
So naturally this is what Harry does this time, too.  
\- Heyyyy, - he mumbles, blushing, looking down at his own shoes.  
\- Come on, Harold! Don’t be difficult now, uncle Zayn wants the best for you! - Louis giggles, trying to sound cheerful.  
Sometimes he actually feels sorry for the boy, because he can tell that being on the receiving end of Zayn’s never-ending banter isn’t much fun. Louis sometimes sees Harry hanging out backstage and looking so miserable and upset (when he thinks no one can see him), that it makes Louis uncomfortable. He doesn’t like people sad. He wants them happy. And then he wonders what Harry could possibly be so upset about. Not that he’s very interesting in finding out though, he doesn’t care that much. It’s just his lazy curiosity and all that. And then there is a whisper in his head saying, “What if Zayn made him feel this way”, but Louis shakes off the unpleasant thoughts. It’s just banter after all and no one would ever take it this close to heart.  
Harry smiles, but Louis sees the unwillingness behind this. Why is Harry like this? Why smile when you don’t want to? What difference does it make? Zayn’s right about him – the guy is bloody weird. They’ve known each other for about a year now, but Louis still hasn’t figured him out, just never really wanted to. He only knows that the guy loves bananas, always misses his mum (how childish), his jokes always fall flat, and, in Louis opinion, he just doesn’t fit in. He may be a cool guy, but not for their company. His singing ability is quite good though, and this is the only thing that matters in the end of the day.  
Niall and Liam are nice. Niall is the person who would get along with anyone, even with Her Majesty – or so Louis thinks. The bloke is always in a good mood, seems to know the best pubs all across the UK, which is always a plus. Louis’ most favorite thing about him is the way he laughs. His laugh could produce enough energy to light up a city and it’s extremely contagious. Louis likes Niall.  
Then there’s Liam. AKA Daddy Direction. He is the most serious one out of them all. But Louis loves that about him, because someone has to be serious after all. Also, the boy is brilliant in terms of composing. Louis himself has always struggled with making up a tune, but Liam is amazing at this stuff. And his vocal range is awesome. Liam’s sense of humor is something Louis can relate to. Good sense of humor is what he appreciates the most in people.  
So they get along for the most part… The part where Harry isn’t in the same room. It always feels uncomfortable when Zayn and Harry are in the same place at the same time. Because everyone knows what’s gonna happen – Zayn mocking Harry. Louis have a hard time understanding why Zayn keeps doing this. Not only does he laugh at him, he also makes it seem like he has no bad intentions or worse – he presents it as harmless jokes a true friendship is built on. Needless to say, Zayn being a true friend to Harry is an unthinkable concept.  
\- Hey there, I could use some help with these, - Liam grumbles, nodding at the bags in his hands.  
\- I’ll help! – Harry is already near Liam, taking some of the bags away from his hands and heading to the mini-bar.  
\- Here he goes, a little Cinderella… don’t overstrain yourself, - Zayn whispers so low only Louis can hear. He doesn’t know if this is supposed to be funny, cause Zayn sounds vile, but chuckles anyway.

Two hours later no one of them is interested in the movie they put on hold and never pressed “play” again. All of them are drunk, Louis and Zayn are outright wasted, and now they decided to play “fuck, marry, kill”.  
Louis is sat on the couch between Zayn and Harry, Niall and Liam somewhere on the floor in the pile of pillows and blankets. “Cause it’s not really a sleepover if you’re not sleeping on the floor, is it”, Niall laughs and – Louis doubts if it’s possible, - but a pissed Niall Horan’s laugh is the deluxe version of his sober laugh. Louis laughs until his eyes start watering. “It’s not really a sleepover when you HAVE to share ONE hotel room with FOUR of your bandmates! Niall you’re the most stupid person to ever walk this Earth, I can’t believe I’m in a band with you”.  
Niall guffaws and rolls over to make himself comfortable.  
\- So, - he says, - Louis, - he points a finger at Louis. Zayn smirks at that.  
\- Yeah?  
\- Simon, Zayn, Prince Harry, - Niall’s smile is about to crack his face in two.  
\- You’ve gotta be kidding me right now, Nialler! – Louis rises an eyebrow, but this game is sooo damn exiting when you’re drunk so he giggles, - Okay, hmm, let’s see… Now, I’d kill Simon, cause obvious reasons, then… I’d fuck Zayn, I guess it’s be a good shag, - Louis giggles.  
\- Aaaand… I’d marry Harry… Cause it rhymes! – Louis says as he hears Liam giggling. Must be a good pun then.  
\- Moreover, imagine being a royalty for a second. Not that I’m not familiar with the feeling, I am a royalty after all…  
\- Your sass is through the roof, Tommo, - Niall mumbles, clearly drifting away.  
Less than 2 minutes later, he hears Liam snorting, and Niall mumbling something in his sleep. “Fucking lightweights”, is the last thought that crosses his mind before he feels his limbs going completely numb and his eyes closing.  
And the next thing he registers is Harry leaning on him in his sleep, his curly head now resting on Louis’ shoulder. He can feel Harry’s curls tickling his chin, and the only thing he knows right now is that Harry smells of fresh laundry and cinnamon, even when he’s drunk. Louis can’t control his train of thoughts anymore and the smell of cinnamon takes him home, to the simpler times, when he spent his days off home, with his sisters. They would wait for their mum to come home after her shift and together they would bake something nice, like pies or biscuits. Johanna loves cinnamon and modifies every receipt so she could always put some here or there. Louis feels himself smiling at the thought. Does Harry love cinnamon too? Louis doesn’t know and, for some reason, he feels mildly dissatisfied with it.  
\- Z, are you awake? – he whispers.  
\- Well, I am for the most part, - he hears Zayn mumbling, clearly on the verge of falling asleep.  
\- When did we become such lightweights? – Louis chuckles, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts are all over the place.  
\- Yeah, - he hears Zayn whispering, - still, Harry is the worst. Even in this.  
\- What do you mean?  
\- He was the first one to pass out. Always missing out on everything, - Zayn says.  
Well…  
\- What’s that with all the hate on the guy? – Louis mutters. The question’s been bothering him for some time now, - Anything I don’t know about?  
\- Nothing… You know the feeling when you just don’t like somebody and you don’t even need a reason? That’s the case.  
Hmm, okay?..  
\- Yeah, but why not… I don’t know, why not let him be?  
He hears Zayn chuckling softly.  
\- Kinda having fun teasing him. Don’t let those curls fool you. He’s so boring and slow, you noticed? I bet the deepest thought he’s ever had was something along the lines of: “What should I get for breakfast?”.  
At this Louis laughs. He doesn’t question Zayn’s point of view, right now he just wants is to sleep for 10 hours straight (at least). The thought of getting to the actual bed gives him headaches since he’d have to stand up and perform some physical activity, so he opts for the sofa.  
His left shoulder lacks the warmth it’s got used to for the last hell-knows-how-many minutes, and Louis opens his eyes (with great effort, must he say) only to find Harry looking at him, face unreadable – mostly because he’s still drunk. No trace of a smile or a frown, just a blank expression. How funny. Louis has no idea how long Harry’s been awake.  
\- I’d better go to bed, - he says, voice raspy and unsteady. He stands up and immediately trips over Niall. Not a single step was taken, he literally just stood up. For you to trip over somebody you need to take a step or two, - Louis thinks to himself and chuckles lightly. Harry is the clumsiest person he’s ever seen.  
Harry gives him a confused look. But behind the drunk glass of his dilated pupils there’s this emotion Louis can’t quite decipher. Now he can’t even be bothered to keep his eyes open.  
\- Yea, sweetest of dreams, - he manages to blurt out.  
Harry leaves the room, and Louis hears Zayn whispering:  
\- Shit, he might have heard it… don’t care though. It’s even better if he knows. His attempts at fitting in are just laughable.  
Louis ignores the unpleasant feeling in the back of his mind. He would probably cringe at Zayn’s words if he wasn’t this tired.  
Then he finally falls asleep.  
He dreams of Prince Harry introducing him to the Queen as his fiancée. The Queen was on cloud nine.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should've probably mentioned it earlier in the notes to the first chapter, but Zayn is way OOC and I promise I'll try to give a decent explanation as to why he acts the way he does. Thank you to every one who left kudos fot the first chapter, it means a lot! x

Louis thinks his bladder is a bitch. Because why else would he be awake at 9 AM after he spent the night drinking liquor from the bottle?

He tries to get up from the sofa he fell asleep on, but this is hard (you don’t say), each move gives him headaches. He looks to his right, where Zayn is curled up, still sound asleep. Louis thinks life’s not fair.

Louis thinks life is a bitch even, when he finds Liam and Niall sleeping too. With a deep sigh, he makes his way to the door trying not to step on anybody. Every step is crucial, but Louis tells himself he’s an adult and can handle it.

Once he gets relieved, he decides to get some water for his throat feels like it’s made of sandpaper (no shit, honey). So Louis heads to the kitchen… Only to find Harry, who happens to be the only one who’s also awake. And… is he making breakfast? At 9 AM? Hungover as fuck?

\- Morning, - Louis says, looking at him suspiciously, - What are you doing?

Harry smiles like it’s Christmas today.

\- Morning! Just decided to make us something to eat. Just in case, you know, somebody gets hungry, - Harry says, and Louis could bet it took him a couple of minutes to finish a sentence.

But that’s kinda sweet of him, isn’t it? The first thing he thought about waking up at ass o’clock was his bandmates.

\- That’s unlikely, - Louis chuckles, - but you do get a point for trying.

Did Harry’s face just fall a little bit or did Louis just imagine it? Ugh.

\- What is it that you’re making though? S’ just my stomach is extremely picky when hungover, - Louis tries to sound funny, tries and fails. But he doesn’t care. Why does he even try in the first place?

\- Um, it’s just scrambled eggs, there wasn’t much, uh, stuff in the fridge, - Harry explains, a smile on his face, like it never went away.

\- That will do, - Louis finds himself smiling back.

By the time Harry puts a plate in front of him, Louis’ stomach is already in a good mood.

\- Aren’t you gonna eat? – he looks up at Harry, who is now leaning on a windowsill, looking out the window.

He turns around rather quickly, as if he wasn’t expecting Louis to talk to him. Either that or he was daydreaming in that little world of his. Anyway, he looks dreamy and surprised.

\- Me? Uh, no… Not hungry, - he smiles softly.

Louis will never figure him out. He himself is not hungry, yet here he is, at 9 fucking AM taking care of others like it’s his _responsibility._

It’s when Louis is done with his breakfast, Zayn enters the room cursing everything he sees. He looks like shit with his hair in a mess (and not the usual artistic mess) and his eyes red.

\- Rise and shine, - Louis sing-songs; he’s in a good mood, whether it’s a miracle or the scrambled eggs working wonders.

\- Shut up, Tommo! – he grunts in response, - me head’s already splitting up without your contributions.

He notices the plate Louis now takes to the sink in order to wash it like a proper human being would do.

\- What is this, Tommo? You cook now? Since when? Am I seeing this with my own two eyeballs?

\- Very funny, - Louis makes a face at him, - but no. Harry made it for us. So nice of him, **right**?

Zayn’s eyes could potentially roll out of his head.

\- Yeah, course, - he laughs, but it’s so insincere that Louis cringes a bit.

 - Do you want some? – he hears Harry asking Zayn.

\- Nah, - Zayn says in a “fuck off” tone, - Don’t wanna end up throwing up.

Well… Is it really so hard to not be a jerk? Apparently, it is for Zayn. Well, maybe he didn’t mean to sound offensive but he could at least keep his attitude and mood swings to himself.

Harry just smiles in response, unaffected.

\- Okay then, - he is now on his way out of the kitchen, - see you tomorrow, guys.

Louis finds himself standing up and following Harry out, ignoring his throbbing headache and Zayn, whose intense stare he feels on his back.

\- Hey, Harry, hey. Slow down kid, - he tries to get Harry to notice him without raising his voice, with Niall and Liam still asleep.

\- Yes? - Harry turns away from the mirror, adjusting his jacket. He looks at Louis curiously, eyebrows raised. He has such a baby face, Louis now notices. All these soft brown curls framing his round face and pale cheeks, and full lips, and eyes like gimlets. Quite charming.

Louis doesn’t really know why he followed Harry, so he just stands here, mouth gaping.

\- I, uh… Thank you? For the breakfast, - he manages to blurt out, suddenly feeling very much backed into a corner.

\- No big deal, - Harry grins, - love cooking! Sorry, Louis, I really have to go, already running late, see you…

\- Yeah, tomorrow, - Louis ends the sentence for him, - but where are you off to? – he finds himself asking and immediately regretting it. Wow, that sounded intrusive, didn’t it?

But Harry just smiles at him (if this child got a pound every time he smiles, he’d make it to the top of the Forbes’ richest celebs list really quick) and whispers:

\- Well, you know the thing with Caroline… I’m supposed to go to her place tonight and she’ll drop me off at the venue tomorrow.

\- Doesn’t sound like much fun, kid. Okay, won’t keep you longer. See you.

\- See you! – Harry sing songs as he runs down the stairs, smiling like it’s not him who’s going to have the most boring day of his life.

Louis never liked Caroline, even in the early X-Factor days. She was all fake smiles and fake tan, so full of herself. By the way, the dislike was mutual, but Louis doesn’t care. Quite few people like Louis the way he really is – flamboyant, loud, wouldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth even if his life depended on it, brutally honest and opinionated. People don’t usually like it if you’re younger than them but at the same time smarter or sharp-tongued.

Anyway, Louis feels sorry for Harry, because he would rather take a bullet than spend an evening with someone who pretty much makes profit off his good-looking face. If you think about it, Harry is forced into pretending to be in a relationship with a woman twice his age just for the sake of the promotion. People at Modest think that the end justifies the means, but isn’t it a little too much? Where does the promotion end and where does the private life begin? Are these two things even distinguishable these days?

Why did they choose Harry? When did it start? Louis doesn’t know, but this once, he wants to find out. See, even though Louis’ known Harry for a year now, he never really wanted to know him properly, never paid attention and only did the bare minimum in terms of communication outside the band stuff.

He goes back to the kitchen, but his thoughts are somewhere else.

\- Um, Earth to Louis! – Zayn’s voice is too loud for Louis liking.

\- Zayn, tone it down, it’s a bit too early for ruining my eardrums.

\- Yeah, sure, - Zayn looks at him, a mug of coffee in his hands, which makes Louis wince. How can anyone in their right mind voluntarily drink this shit?

\- But obviously it wasn’t too early to have a nice chat with little Harry, was it, Louis? – Zayn gives him a suspicious look.

\- What do you mean? – Louis asks, quite puzzled, because well, Zayn can hate whoever the hell he wants to, but it doesn’t mean Louis will, too.

\- Am I hallucinating or are you really being _nice_ to him? – Zayn goes on, and wow, seems like he is really angry. What even?

\- Um, yeah? – Louis raises an eyebrow, looking Zayn right in the eye, trying to catch the feeling behind this stare, - you have a problem with it?

The sun just rose, and now it’s coloring Zayn’s eyes amber, and his hair bronze. The color looks good on him. People always look better in the sunlight, don’t they? Why does Zayn have to ruin such a beautiful moment?

\- You can only play for one team at a time, Tommo, - Zayn grunts in response, looking betrayed and offended.

\- Here we go, - Louis groans, rolling his eyes, - Zayn, really? Are you jealous or what? You sound like a 5 year old. You’re being too dramatic.

\- I’m fucking not. I just thought I’d found a soulmate in you, - he sounds very serious, and for a moment Louis really ponders if he overestimated their relationship this whole time. Because Zayn sounds outright bitter and angry… just because Louis was nice to someone? This is wrong on more than one level.

\- Well, I’m sorry I don’t hate on people for no reason? I’m sorry I’m not as bitter about the world as you thought I was? What’s gotten into you?

Zayn just keeps staring at him with a completely blank expression. Then he suddenly gets up, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor makes Louis frown. Zayn then comes up to him, reeking of alcohol and looking exasperated.

\- Fuck you, Louis. Go make a bunch of new friends, have fun. Good fucking riddance.

Louis is totally confused. He looks at Zayn and he can’t believe he actually just said all those things.

\-  Are you okay? Do you even hear yourself? I don’t understand you, Z. No, Zayn, no, wait! – Zayn is fully intended on leaving the room, and Louis has to grab his shoulder in order to make him stay.

He has to make an effort to stop himself from laughing because the whole situation is just beyond ridiculous. Zayn’s never been like that before, he is literally one of the most chill person Louis knows. That’s so unlike Zayn, and it weirds Louis out.

\- Is this your way of telling me we can’t be friends anymore? – Louis hisses, felling irritation boiling up inside of him, - Just because your majesty doesn’t approve of me _not_ acting like a jerk? You honestly need to reconsider your principles, mate.

Zayn looks at Louis with disgust written all over his face, like Louis said something absurd. He blinks rapidly, and then suddenly shoves Louis away and storms out of the room. For a moment, Louis wonders if he should go find him and try to make it up, but then the angrier, irritated part of him chooses to stay and just let him cool down. Who knows what’s going on in Zayn’s mind? What made him so angry? Louis has no idea.

Ten minutes later Liam and Niall enter the room, yawning and wincing from the sound of their own steps. Louis knows the last thing they want to do now is eat, therefore he doesn’t even ask. They just sit there, the three of them, talking about the last night and exchanging never-agains. Eventually Niall can’t stand his headache anymore so he goes back to his bed to have a nap.

When the two of them are left sitting in silence, Liam suddenly asks:

\- Did Zayn leave? I saw him putting his jacket on and he looked so pissed. Something happened?

Louis genuinely thought that faith had quit trying him, at least for today. But now he has to tell Liam about everything, and the very thought about is tiring enough.

\- We kind of had a fight, - Louis shrugged.

\- About?..

Louis sighs deeply, realizing how awkward the explanation is going to sound.

\- Zayn got proper mad at me, because I made the mistake of being friendly to Harry. Something’s going on with him, he thinks of Harry as a scourge of universal scope. And for some reason he thought I hated the guy too but I never did.

Liam looks surprised, but not too much.

\- Well, I don’t know Zayn too well, but he’s always had this weird vibe, but I thought… dunno, thought that maybe he’s alright if you enjoy his company so much. You guys always hang out together. Is he always like that?

The thing is, Zayn is a very good friend, Louis will give him that. He is the one you can ask to help hide the body, as cliché as it sounds. The two of them are the best together when it comes to the good banter. They just work. But now Louis has come to the conclusion that Zayn might have problems with his attitude. But is he going to give up on his friend that easily? No way.

\- He’s a good guy, but sometimes I feel like he’s somehow still going through that phase where hating the whole world seems like the only option... I’ve gotta find him, any ideas on where he might be?

Liam scratches his head and falls into thinking, but gives up three seconds later.

\- Dunno, man, - he shrugs, - if anybody here knows, it should be you. Try ringing him.

With that, Liam left. His usual Daddy Direction self turned out to be useless when hungover. His advice might have worked if the boys were still in the X-Factor house, because Louis knew all the hiding places and the surroundings. But it’s impossible to keep track of these things when you travel from one city to another every day. He doesn’t know shit about this city besides these hotel rooms.

Zayn’s a big boy. So maybe it’s better to leave him alone to sort out all his shit. And Louis isn’t even going to ring him. So he spends the rest of the day watching stupid TV shows and scrolling through his Twitter mentions, replying some fans. This is one of his favorite things to do, because all these sweet messages from them always have a way of making his day better no matter what. It’s not that he gets only the good, kind messages, no. There has been a lot of hate ever since the boys started getting somewhat big, but Louis is very good at ignoring hate. Too bad they don’t award a PhD in the art of ignoring. Louis would get one, that’s for sure. He knows that his voice is far from perfect, as is the way he looks. So what? Louis thinks it’s a take me or leave me kind of thing. If somebody doesn’t like him, well, they have a right. But why spend your time coming at him and bashing him on Twitter? And who loses what in this case? Definitely not Louis.

That’s what other boys think, too. Except for Harry. As far as Louis knows, the guy has not been dealing with hate too well. But then again, Louis doesn’t exactly know how bad things are. They can’t be worse than his own, or Liam’s, or Niall’s, or Zayn’s, right? Why would they be?

There has been a lot of things going on since they were formed into a band, and it’s pretty hard to deal with everything simultaneously. But Louis has never been the one to retreat in the face of adversity, so to say. He kind of likes the challenge that comes with it. The only thing that really troubles him is the atmosphere in the band. It almost doesn’t feel like a band, but some random guys put together. Louis really, _really_ wants to fix that, but he doesn’t know how. Yet.


	3. 3

~3~

 

 

* * *

 - I think we need to talk, don’t we?

Zayn slowly raises his head and looks at him, and it’s like question marks popping in his eyes. Like he has no clue. Come on.

Everyone is running around them, making the last second preparations for their performance. Yes, not the best moment to have a heart-to-heart but Louis hates the idea of going on like this. He’s been waiting for Zayn to come to him first, but apparently he’s too fucking full of himself to stoop this low.

\- About what?

Louis can hear himself sighing. When did Zayn suddenly become so problematic?

\- Listen, man, I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to go up onstage with this bad blood still between us, and I…

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence, because somebody is tugging at his shoulder. As usual, Louis first hears him, then sees.

\- Boys, have any of you seen my bowtie? Can’t find it anywhere! – here he is, dimples popping, eyes are shiny as if he’s either on something or has just been crying. Or just too happy. This boy.

Harry looks between Louis and Zayn, apparently not catching on the intense vibe of a conversation they were about to have. Louis automatically smiles in response because Harry looks so happy and excited, and happy people make Louis smile. Zayn frowns and stares at him in disbelief, like he just murdered someone. And he’s usually the one to call Louis a “drama queen”. Talk about being dramatic!

\- You should try to pull you pretty little head out of the clouds every once in a while, Styles, - Zayn hisses and turns on his heels, shoving Harry out of the way.

Louis doesn’t follow him. His behavior is disgusting and Louis can do without it poisoning his mood. Zayn is way more selfish than Louis thought him to be. About time to stop getting surprised.

He turns his head and finds Harry still standing near him. There isn’t any shine to his eyes anymore, nor is he smiling. He just stares at Zayn’s back somewhere across the room with a frown on his face. The frown that doesn’t belong this cute face, Louis catches himself thinking.

\- Hey, I think you should look somewhere on Lou’s vanity, - Louis says in attempt to distract himself from admiring Harry’s features because this is starting to get creepy, isn’t it?

Harry looks up at him and manages a tiny smile.

\- Thanks, I think I’m gonna go ask Lou… Should’ve done this in the first place, - his face falls again.

Just when Harry turns to leave, Louis decides to actually voice his opinion on Zayn. Because he doesn’t want to be associated with this bitter shell of a person anymore. Well, he may not have given up on him completely, but the thing is, Harry might still think that Louis approves of this kind of behavior. And suddenly it’s so important to make sure Harry knows this is not true.

\- Hey, Harry, listen. Zayn is being a dick. You don’t have to, like, take it, you know? I’ve no idea what happened to him, but I don’t think it’s about you anyway.

\- Well, every time it feels right about me, - Harry whispers, looking at Louis with so much hurt in his eyes that Louis starts to regret his decision.

It’s overwhelming, mainly because Harry has never shown to what extent Zayn’s bully-like behavior affects him. He is always that easy-going guy, coming across as a little child who is just unable to get offended. At least that what Louis has thought of him up until now. He starts to suspect he may have been horribly wrong this whole time.

\- But thanks, Louis. This means a lot, um, coming from you, - Harry splutters out haltingly, and something in the way his cheeks are starting to turn red tells Louis he didn’t want to say it out loud.

He really wants to ask what that meant, but the crew tells them it’s now time to go on stage.

Since they have begun touring a couple of months ago, coming up on stage has become Louis’ favorite part of being in the band. He loves all those happy faces, big crowds, confetti, even the heat of the stage lights that sometimes makes him want to kill himself – he loves this with all his heart. But at the same time he feels like there’s so much more to it. Louis thinks that every time they perform, their shows luck interaction between the band members. Their performance usually follows this pattern: Louis and Zayn fool around with each other putting up water battles and playing tag, Niall and Liam chat with the crowd (but mostly with each other in between songs), and Harry is on his own, just being his funny self and touching hands with all those girls in the front row who will probably feel blessed for the rest of their lives.

 But how does it feel for him to be on his own all the time? Louis knows he could never. He suddenly finds himself sympathizing the boy and it makes him feel shitty. These are some heavy thoughts he doesn’t want to bring with him on stage but ends up brining anyway.

Tonight’s show is no different. With the exception of Louis and Zayn. The latter now stands on his scripted spot and God forbid he moves an inch or two in Louis’ direction. Louis tries not to think about this too much and concentrate on the performance, but it’d be a lie if he told the whole thing doesn’t hurt him. Of course, he fucking misses his best friend already. Every time he needs to say his thoughts out loud he realizes he has no one to tell them to. It sucks.

The show, however, goes on. They have already made it to the bottom of the setlist, and now it’s time for Up All Night. As they belt out _“I wanna stay up all night and do it all with you”_ , Louis registers one of the guys coming to him, more like jumping really, and putting his arm around Louis’ shoulder. Naturally, Louis looks up, only to find Harry looking back at him, genuine mirth in his unblinking gaze. He sings his part looking Louis right in the eye, and all Louis is able to notice is Harry’s cherub-like lips parting and his body warm against his own, his shirt slightly damp from all the jumping and running around the stage. Harry’s face is so close Louis can count the little drops of sweat on his temples, the curls sticking to his forehead, hear his voice past the amplified echo. The whole moment is like a slow-mo part of some shitty teen movie. But it feels special for some reason, because all that sympathy Louis has for Harry is making his heart ache in some tender way unbeknownst to him. Harry’s smile is too big for his face, in the anatomical sense, but so charming nevertheless.

 Of course Louis can’t help smiling back.

But the moment is ruined when someone else bumps into Louis’ other side, pulling them both into a group hug. This is an obligatory part of every show. Louis is usually the one to initiate it, because he just wants to be closer to these guys, he wants them to feel united. To feel like a family. It kills him that, after a year of working together, they still know so little about each other. And now Louis is starting to grasp what the root of the problem might be. Zayn and his, it turns out, quite toxic personality is what might be keeping them apart. If you think about that, Louis could always tell that everyone was annoyed by the way Zayn is rude with everybody but Louis, almost contemptuous every time he has to talk to anyone but Louis. This is so gross and Louis feels like shit, because he’s looked past it the whole time.

They finish the show and thank their fans. Louis’ heart could burst with all this gratitude he feels for the fans, who are solely the reason the boys are getting so big. The hype they are creating just to let everybody know about One Direction is overwhelming, and the support they get is unheard of. A dream come true.

 

It’s when they’re getting into a tour bus to get to the next city, Louis makes up his mind to try to talk to Zayn again. When they are inside, he quickly finds Zayn who is already on his way to bed. Well, it’s obviously a stretch to call it a bed, because this is a tour bus after all. But eventually you get used to such minor inconveniences.

\- Zayn, - he says, grabbing him by his shoulder.

He doesn’t even look at Louis, just stops in his tracks and waits. Like Louis is just a bug buzzing around and he just waits for him to fly away. So Louis has no other choice than to drag Zayn to the very end of their bus. There is this small space they usually go to when they want to have a smoke or just talk or eat. There’s no one in there now, because normal people, unlike them, are currently drifting off to sleep, unbothered.

\- I can’t stand it, - Louis half-whispers once he closes the door behind, - either you tell me what the matter really is, or, …or I’m not letting you out.

Louis’ very well aware that this sounds childish, thank you very much.

\- You’re so annoying, - Zayn replies, voice tired and irritated, but he finally looks Louis in the eye. And Louis doesn’t like what he sees. Because his eyes, usually so warm and sparkling, are now cold and distant.

\- Listen, Louis. I don’t care if you get all BFF with him, but we can’t be best friends if you’re friends with him. Can’t you see he’s silly? Like, so fucking shallow and full of himself. Everyone loves him and he doesn’t even have to try. So spoiled by the attention he gets. I thought we were on the same page about this, - he blurts out in one breath, and his voice gets louder with every sentence, cheeks flushed and, wow, he’s really mad.

He falls silent after that, and Louis doesn’t even know what to say. He’d say something along the lines of “ _he’s not like that at all_ ”, but the problem is, Louis himself doesn’t quite know Harry. He just feels that he can’t be what Zayn has pictured him to be. It just feels nice to be around Harry, is all.

\- So that’s why you mad? Cause he’s so effortlessly likable? Z, mate, you do realize it’s not his fault right? Wait, are you like… jealous of his looks or what? I don’t –

\- Never in a million years would I want those ugly curls or those huge dimples, I am not that deluded. It’s just unfair. We’re supposed to be equal, but he’s always the one in the spotlight. The people who love him so much don’t even know that in reality, there’s nothing to love about him.

_Those are not ugly curls._

\- You’re the one who’s full of yourself here, not him. I’ve had enough of your bitterness, - Louis snaps at him, and he probably shouldn’t get that defensive of someone he doesn’t even know properly, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is Zayn needing to be taught a lesson.

\- Look at you, Tommo. He hugs you once, shoots you a smile and you’re already falling for his charm. I warned you about it, don’t say I didn’t.

\- You are bonkers. It’s not about him at all, it’s about you not knowing how to manage your emotions. He’s just an outlet for your rage, but this isn’t healthy. He’s a human too. Think about it next time you want to get out your aggression.

With that, Louis turns on his heels and exits the room, leaving Zayn bathing in his own hard feelings. He wants none of it. He gets in his bed, feeling emotionally and physically drained, and instantly falls asleep.

 

The next day brings new places and new faces, and Louis thinks that maybe this is the time to let go. He’s tried, hasn’t he? Not his fault Zayn is such a stubborn prick. Maybe he’ll change his mind, but in the grand scheme of things, Louis can’t make him so he decides to take a step back for a while.

After the show he finds himself accepting Niall’s offer to order some pizza and play FIFA. They decide on a pepperoni and then hear Liam yell “Who said pepperoni”, so the three of them decide to order one more.

This time their management booked five separate rooms for them, so the guys decided to play at Niall’s. As Louis is making his way across the hall, he realizes he is passing by Harry’s room. And the idea just pops up in his head like a divine intervention, he can feel a smile unwittingly forming on his face.

He takes 3 steps back and opens the door. Halfway through he wonders if he should’ve knocked - he probably should’ve but it’s too late anyway. So there he is, taking in the room. He hears Harry speaking with somebody on the phone, and “ _I don’t think they want me to, anyway_ ” is the last thing he hears before Harry actually notices him and mumbles “Gotta go” to whoever he was talking to. He looks at Louis and his face goes from pale to pink-ish as if he’d been caught doing something obscene. Louis decided to not dwell on the thought of Harry doing anything obscene because _what even._

\- Hi Harold, - he exclaims, probably louder than he intended to. Harry flinches a little but smiles back.

\- Hey, - he replies, and dear God, when did his voice get even raspier? Or was he just crying? Louis, to his great surprise, knows how Harry’s after crying voice sounds, because he heard it multiple times during the X-Factor. Harry’s always been too emotional. Louis doesn’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. At least he does know some things about Harry, and he feels something warm at the thought.

\-  You up to playing some FIFA with me and the lads?

Harry’s face lights up the very second Louis ends the sentence and he jumps from the bed, throwing his phone somewhere on the sheets. He smiles from ear to ear and nods.

\- Finally a reason to leave the room, - he says, picking up the card to his room.

At that, Louis chuckles. Harry’s words make him remember one poem written by Brodsky they quickly looked through in school.

_Don't leave the room, make no mistake._

_You need no Sun, if you smoke cigarettes._

_Outside all is pointless, especially bliss and pain._

Their teacher said this was a rather depressive poem so they didn’t have to learn it by heart, but Louis did anyway. He doesn’t think it is depressive, he thinks it’s a very refreshing one.  

\- What? – Harry asks, confused by Louis’ laugh

\- No, nothing. You just made me remember about a poem I love.

\- Which one? – you would think the curiosity in Harry’s voice is fake, but Louis knew some little things about him after all.

\- You probably don’t know it, it’s called “Don’t leave the room” by Brodsky.

Harry looks very amused and starts laughing.

\- What made you think I don’t know it though? Love that one, - he says slowly, smiling and looking Louis in the eye.

Now it’s Louis’ turn to be surprised. He feels a little dumb, like he underrated Harry.

\- Uh, I dunno, I just…

\- Just because I’m younger doesn’t mean I’m uneducated, Lou, - he said, dead serious, still maintaining eye contact. Louis could swear he feels this voice wrapping around his entire existence. So mesmerizing, so soft.

The blinds are closed, leaving only a tiny opening just so a little bit of the sunlight can reach the room. You would never have guessed how much dust there is if it wasn’t for this tiny ray of sunshine.

_You need no Sun, if you smoke cigarettes._

\- Didn’t mean it like that. I’m not here to hurt you or mock you, Harry, I’m not Zayn. We don’t even talk anymore, - he blurts out, - I’m here to offer you to hang out with us. Come on, we have pizza.

Harry smiles in response and heads towards the door. With his hand on the handle, he turns around, curls bouncing up and down, falling into his eyes.

\- I believe you, you know. I believe you.


	4. dry my eyes, bring color to my skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating for so long! I've been too caught up in uni stuff, haven't we all? I promise to update more often!  
> (this one hasn't been proofread at all, so excuse any typos! Hope you'll like it! x

Louis had no idea this whole thing had a potential to turn out not just alright, but amazing.

When he brought Harry with him to the Niall’s room, the other two boys looked slightly surprised, but seemed happy to see him. They started playing together and were about 15 minutes into the actual game, when the delivery arrived. So it was the four of them stuffing their mouths with pizza, gamepads aside and forgotten. The room was full with the sounds of Harry’s bad puns and Niall’s laughter – oh god, Niall was actually laughing at those puns. Louis mentally rolls his eyes. It’s undeniable though, that hearing the youngest boy laugh so unabashedly open is quite contagious. Harry fits into their company seamlessly, and this ease makes Louis feel better. Isn’t it amazing that, to solve the equation, they just had to take Zayn out of it? Simple as that. This is a harsh thought, but this is what Zayn deserves.

A loud cry distracts Louis from his thoughts. He turns his head and sees that Niall is now holding Harry in his arms leaving him no chance to escape. Harry tries to break free as much as he physically can but fails, mostly because he can’t stop giggling and get his body to cooperate. Louis knows where this is going, because he’s known Niall for a year and maybe they weren’t close to the point where Niall would tell him his best-kept secrets, but he’s sure as hell already fallen victim of Niall’s unhealthy passion to tickle people. The guy is obsessed, and if Louis said he once was pretty close to knocking him out for it, it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

Screaming “Whatta rite of passage!” Niall gets down to his dirty work, making Harry burst with laughter and it’s just so funny to watch them like this. Everyone is enjoying themselves and it’s such a significant difference from what it’s like when Zayn is around. 

\- Niah!.. uh Niall, let me go, you, uuuh, animal! - Harry runs out of breath, but still tries to punch Niall harder, and though Liam prefers to stay away from the battlefield, he cheers on Harry, giggling like a seven year old watching his fellows fight. 

Finally Niall lets him go, and Harry, red and breathless from the torturing of being tickled, crashes on the couch right next to Louis. His eyes are shiny, but this time it’s not a matter of anything but time well spent. Louis loves seeing him like this. He catches himself growing fonder of the boy with each passing day. He grows fonder of the way they work together as a four piece, too. It’s so refreshing to not get dragged down by the constant question of “What will Zayn think”. But Louis still wishes the things didn’t end so abruptly.

A couple of hours later Liam and Niall get up and announce that they are going to call it a night. When Liam left the room and Niall went to bed, Louis decides it’s time for him to go, too. So he turns to Harry and sees him already staring back at him.

\- I think I’m going to go get me beauty sleep. Are you? – Louis whispers, though there’s no need to.

Harry has such a puzzled look on his face that for a moment Louis thinks that he said something he hadn’t intend to, or that his tired brain messed up his speech, you know the drill. But then Harry smiles, a hint of mischief or something alike in his eyes.

\- No, I was thinking I could maybe watch the sky tonight.

_Watch what?_

\- You mean… Like outside?

\- Actually, the roof.

And here goes that smile. I-Just-Won-A-Fortune one.

\- Wanna go with me? – he chuckles nervously, but still sounds very determined.

\- Is this even legal? – Louis asks, even though he knows the answer.

The look in Harry’s eyes tells him he’s being tedious.

\- Everything is legal as long as you don’t get caught, - he smirks.

\- Oh? We need to talk about your disposition, young Harold, - Louis raises his eyebrows in semi-fake surprise.

Harry laughs and pushes him with his elbow, pretending to be offended.

\- Stop with that Young Harold shit and I’ll do you a favor of taking you with me.

Louis isn’t quite sure if he should accept such a generous offer, but the pout on Harry’s face is already starting to form, and if that makes him feel better…

\- Deal, - he says hurriedly, cutting off any escape routes.

So they sneak out of the room. Louis follows Harry all the way across the hall and up the stairs, and if the sticker on the door said “for staff only”, all in caps, well, Louis didn’t notice. A million questions are going through Louis’ mind right now, but he won’t ask any until they are up on the rooftop. God forbid someone finds out, can you imagine the headlines? “Two Boy Banders Sneak Out Of The Hotel Room At Midnight To Watch The Sky On The Rooftop”.

_At least this sounds romantic._

It’s when they stand on the roof, with the endless sky above their heads, when Louis forgets words even exist. This town isn’t that big, therefore the night time illumination is poor and this is the greatest thing for those intended to see the beauty of the night sky. Louis never knew there are so many stars out there, the revelation literally takes his breath away and leaves him speechless.

  - Wow…

Harry looks up at him with a small smile.

\- Yeah… Do you like it here?

\- Love it, - Louis whispers, because somehow he feels like any sounds above whispering would be uncalled for.

Harry nods and sits down, outstretching his legs, and pats the cold concrete near him as if inviting Louis. Louis outright crashes down on it, because, well, it’s past midnight and he’s knackered. So they sit, with their heads tilted up, and it’s so unusually quiet. No cars roaming or drunk people screaming nonsense - the town is asleep.

Louis slowly turns to Harry and watches him. Harry doesn’t move a bit, just keeps staring up into the endless darkness, and Louis feels like he’s interrupting something. It’s quite chilly, and the wind is messing with Harry’s curls in the most cinematographic way possible. Louis regrets he doesn’t have a camera with him so that he could capture this moment.

\- Why does he hate me so much? – the question cuts through the motionless air and startles Louis a little bit. He is talking about Zayn, of course he is.

Louis sighs. How does he break it to Harry that he’s being bullied for absolutely no reason? How do you say it looking in those hopeful eyes?

\- Don't let this affect you, Harry. Zayn is... he hates everyone, okay? He's fucked up and it’s not about you whatsoever.

\- No, it's... he hates me the most, - Harry exhales, painful notes in his voice make Louis frown.

\- I spent a lot of time thinking what I could do that made him so angry at me, but I never even got to hang out with him, let alone make him angry? - he goes on, looking somewhere in front of him, picking up small grey pebbles and throwing them around.

It really bothers Harry, Louis can tell. If it was Louis in Harry's shoes, he wouldn't give a fuck or two about some douchebag talking shit. The opinion of those that love you should matter. But it's Harry, and Harry is vulnerable, and Harry is so used to be loved by everybody and to love in return, that the very idea of hate makes him sick. People like Harry should never be exposed to the nasty feelings of hate, ignorance and jealousy.

During the past 12 months Louis has learned that Harry likes to convey his feelings through the body language, craving anyone's touch whenever he feels alone or homesick, or cuddling with people to show affection. If that will make Harry feel better, Louis will do it, fine. He used to do the same with his sisters and now he could just pretend Harry is his little brother who needs some reassurance of his own worth. Louis hates that he even has to reassure Harry of that, because, come on... Who wouldn't love him?

\- Hey, - Louis whispers, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder, slightly squeezing it.

Harry exhales sharply, turning to face Louis. His eyes are sad, a smile ever so little, but still there.

\- Your self-worth shouldn't depend on those who know nothing but hate. You're so much more than that, Harry. You're so much better.

Harry's unblinking stare pierces right through the dark, locking with Louis'. Louis knows that according to the latest scientific research, the universe is constantly expanding, but he thinks but it will never shine as bright as the eyes of the boy sitting next to him.

Louis swallows the lump in his throat, and doesn't know why his eyes are prickling.

\- Thank you Lou, - Harry says, voice raspier that it was just a minute ago.

\- When you say it like this, it doesn't seem to loom over me. You... really comfort me, - he smiles wider now.

The kid is gonna go places, Louis thinks trying to suppress indefinite feelings stirring deep down in his soul.

There is so much in this simple moment, and all Louis can feel right now is the warmth in his chest. 

\- Thank you for bringing me with you. It truly is a beautiful view, I would probably never end up here myself, - he whispers.

Harry nods at him, smiling. His curls are unruly for the wind is blowing so hard, and Louis can't really see his eyes behind his messed up fringe. He can only hope they don't have any trace of bitterness anymore.

***  
It was around 3AM when they got back to their rooms, their backs hurting from sitting on cold hard ground for so long. It’s still dark and Louis curses himself for staying up so late. They will have to be up in 4 hours, and instead of a healthy amount of sleep he chose apostrophizing the night sky. Very, very mature. But, if he’s being honest with himself, he has no regrets. He finds it nice talking to Harry. There is something about the boy that just enhances Louis’ own perception of things. When they talk, it’s like two different worlds collide. Louis doesn’t know what it means, but he enjoys the feeling.

The next day starts with Liam banging on his door and screaming something about the bus waiting for them outside. Of course Louis slept in, he would be more surprised if he didn’t. So he rushes to the bathroom, packs his things and leaves the room in a hurry.

The guys are already in the bus which is going to take them to whatever venue they perform at tonight. Louis steals a short glance at Harry, noting to himself that Harry doesn’t look tired at all. Instead he is smiling at something Liam just said to him. It comes so naturally to him to just be nice to people. It seems so simple, but Louis has a slight suspicion that he works hard for it.  
He wants to come to Harry and ask him how he is, but for some reason he doesn’t want to let the other boys in on their little rendezvous, especially Zayn. The time they spent together, whether the feeling it brought to him was real or imagined, feels intimate. Louis can already see Liam looking at him, amazed, as if asking “ _You went **where**?” _ So he stays silent and passes Harry and Liam, opting for a free seat next to Niall, who is too carried away listening to music to actually notice him. On the way to his seat Harry’s eyes meet his and follow him all the way to the seat. He even turns his head to proper see him off. And if there was a hint of confusion in his eyes, Louis imagined it. He nods at Harry and looks out the window.

The bus starts moving and soon enough the urban buildings change to a country scenery, meaning that they left the town. The slight rocking moves of the bus lull Louis to sleep, but he won’t allow himself to drift off.

Is Harry sad again? Louis thought he was done with all the self-flagellation bullshit. Or are Harry’s issues deeper than he thought?

When did Harry start taking up so much space in his thoughts? Funnily enough, Zayn is not there at all anymore. The change is pleasant and very much welcome. However, if somebody told him a couple of months ago, that he’d rather watch the sky full of stars with this curly-haired kindness personified than smoke weed with Zayn, he would laugh at their face.

He can see Zayn sitting across the aisle, eyes closed and forehead leaning against the window glass. Is he going to spend the rest of his life scaring people off? What is he thinking? Louis thinks he will never find out.

An hour later Liam requests a stop because he is hungry and he didn’t have a proper breakfast for “he was too busy waking Louis up”. Niall says he wouldn’t mind dropping by the nearest McDonalds either, so their tour manager makes a grimace, but gives in eventually.  
Louis is too tired to even get up, so he asks Niall to grab him some French fries and goes back to careless daydreaming. With his eyes closed, he hears the scurry of feet down the aisle, Liam already fighting with Niall about something related to the forthcoming gluttony. They voices gradually fade, and Louis manages to enjoy those two precious seconds of silence before he hears-

\- Not hungry?

He slowly opens one eye, then the other, and sees Harry leaning back in the Niall’s seat and looking at him, slightly amused.

\- As far as I can tell, neither you are, - Louis smiles, voice raspy and sleepy. Well, he’s totally powerless in his fight against Morpheus.

\- I actually am, ‘m just too lazy to go get it myself. Asked Liam, - Harry says, slowly stroking his curls up and smiling.

\- Aw, what is this that you’re listening to? – he suddenly asks, only now noticing that Louis has one headphone in.

 He moves closer to read the name of the song before Louis has a chance to answer him. This kid never heard of the thing called “personal space”, that’s sure. By the way, Harry still smells like cinnamon and Louis doesn’t know how he feels about that.

Harry literally jumps at his seat, quickly raising his head to look at Louis, eyebrows raised and lips stretched in (yet another) huge smile.

\- You love The Script? They are my favorite band, too! – this discovery clearly makes Harry happy, and this, in turn, makes Louis giggle.

\- Yes, I do. They are so good. I’ve been to their show once… In Manchester, three years ago I guess…

Harry stares at him in disbelief, speechless.

\- What?.. – Louis frowns in confusion.

\- No way! Are you kidding? February 8? I was there, too! At the same show! What a coincidence! Like, can you believe? – Harry is totally overwhelmed, smiling too wide, too bright, his dimples popping. This is the fastest Louis has ever heard him talk. 

Louis’ eyebrows must be above his hairline, at least feels like it.

\- You serious? Man, this is straight-up crazy!

This is funny. Louis never believed in coincidences, “the universe is rarely ever so lazy”.  Isn’t it amazing how they were breathing the same air while screaming The Script’s lyrics, and they didn’t even know about each other’s existence? And two years later they are in a band together. It’s just… wow.

Harry looks him in the eye, keeping that winning smile on, and who would Louis be if he didn’t smile back?


	5. the fifth one, the warm one

\- Louis, I would very much appreciate if you stopped staring into your phone and talked to me! We haven't seen each other for so long! - his mom sighs softly, putting the TV on mute.

\- Yeah mum, sorry, the boys are just texting me all the time, - Louis chuckles, locking his phone and throwing it aside.

He does feel sorry because he knows his mom hates when he does that, but today is his birthday and he's been receiving all due wishes and cute messages one's supposed to.

It's been two days since the band stopped touring and the management allowed them to have a three weeks long break to celebrate Christmas and just... breathe, basically. Because, as much as he liked performing, it's been a hell of a year for One Direction and all Louis consists of is sleep deprivation, homesickness, and tiredness. It has to stop.

Louis sighs sweetly at the thought that he's going to spend the next two weeks at home, with his mum and sisters.

After saying goodbye to each other at Heathrow, the boys have been texting each other on a daily basis. This is something new and totally unlike last Christmas, when they just exchanged limp handshakes and went each to a different gate.

Louis has grown much fonder of his bandmates for the last month and therefore, it felt sad to see them off. He doesn't know why, maybe because they all became pretty close and felt like a family. He remembers Liam patting him on the back and wishing to have fun, Niall screaming "Gona call you every day Tommo, you have me word" in his thick Irish accent all across the airport hall. Zayn left earlier that day, never said goodbye, and Louis is proud to say that it didn't affect him at all. And Harry... being his adorable self, he just pulled Louis in a warm hug and it was Louis who had to let go first, otherwise they might stay like this for hours and miss their flights. Harry said he was going to miss Louis a lot, and the tone in his voice was so sincere Louis wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe Harry was going to miss him, because he sure as hell was going to miss Harry. Is it possible to not miss that unmistakable laugh, them dimples, cheeks forever flushed pink, and those shiny eyes that always look at you with so much excitement?

Louis can't pinpoint the exact moment when Harry managed to sneak into his heart and made himself at home, but this absolutely have taken place. That's why he misses him a lot.

They talk a lot. Louis had no idea Harry knew so much stuff. If anybody else told him that a piece of paper folded 103 times was as thick as the Universe, Louis wouldn't care. But Harry talked about it so passionately like it meant something to him.

\- But this is amazing, Lou! Things like this do make your mind blow.

Harry is such a nerd sometimes. And Louis likes exactly that about him. He's as far from the way media portrays him as one can be. Instead of hitting on some random girls and clubbing, he spends his free time watching popular science films and reading books. Louis finds it endearing.

His mum is making a cake for his birthday, and the wonderful smell of cinnamon spreads all over the house. No, it absolutely doesn't make Louis remember a certain someone. It does not.

\- Have your father called you yet? - Jo asks, and for once he is grateful that she got him snapped out of his thoughts.

\- And I don't think he will, what was the last time he called?.. Two years ago?

\- Well you're turning 20 Lou, - she says, and a shade of something bittersweet makes her voice sound raspier than usual. She clears her throat and smiles.

 - So, how are the boys? Have you finally got along or?.. cause you seem to be more close than ever, judging by what I've seen in the interviews.

\- Muuuuuum, don't say you still watch the interviews, - Louis wants to cringe so bad, because for some reason he feels embarrassed when he imagines his relatives watching him on TV.

\- I do, boobear, and I always will.

Louis sighs, because even though his mum knows it's slightly irritating for him, she never misses a chance to tease him.

Louis makes a face at her, and she makes a funny face back. Louis must have inherited this habit from her. This is the way Jo has always been, not only the best mum you could ask for, but a best friend Louis could talk to.

\- But yeah, you guessed right. We're tightest we've ever been now, - Louis admits, a proud smile on his face. But then he remembers about Zayn.

\- But Zayn kinda fell out with everyone.

Jo frowns.

\- Why is that? - she knows very well that Louis and Zayn got on pretty easily.

\- Long story short, he's mad at me for being friends with Harry? You know, I don't know what made him think I could only have one friend and that's him. He hates the whole world for god knows what and he thought I shared his views but obviously, I didn't. He's an enigma.

\- Oh honey, that's awful. I would never have thought he's like that. Sometimes you get fooled by the people you think you know, c'est la vie, - she took a deep breath, probably thinking about Louis' father, - but let's get the sad part over with. What about the other boys?

Louis starts smiling involuntary, because _Yeah, mum, they are amazing_.

When he finishes taking about everything they've done on the road and places they've been, about Niall and Liam's faux-rivalry, about Harry and oh no, he's most definitely not missing them already. Except he is. 

Suddenly Fizzy and Lottie storm into the living room and start begging Louis to go outside and build a snowman. The sisters are smiling wide and seem so exited, and apparently they think they are making a really good point by pouting and whining: “But Lou, it’s the most suitable snow for making a snowman!”

Pfff, as if there’s ever the “unsuitable snow”. Is this even a thing? So Louis has nothing left to do but give in and, with an impending sense of doom, he leaves his warm shelter of a duvet and some lilac pillows his mum bought ages ago. He really loves the color.

 

With cheeks red and breathing quite labored, the three of them barge through the door like barbarians, making a lot of noise and startling Jo a little. But she just laughs at them, pretending to be offended. Jo says that the dinner is ready, and Louis can feel the most amazing smell of cinnamon and orange, sweet as the best memories of his childhood. Has Jo made The Pies? Oh yes, she has.

After having the most amazing meal he’s had in a while, Louis gets sleepy and the bed’s basically calling his name from upstairs. Wouldn’t it be a disgrace to ignore it? So he picks up his phone from where he left it in the living room and goes upstairs, checking for any new messages along the way. There’s a lot on Twitter and Facebook and it’s mostly from the fans. iMessages is also overflowed, but there’s one message from a person Louis haven’t expected to hear from today. The boy frowns, but clicks on it anyway.

“ _Happy Birthday. hope ur havin a great time. I’m sorry_ ” – the text reads, and it makes Louis sad in no time. He had actually been planning to invite Zayn to celebrate his b-day with his family before they fell out. Yes, Louis thought he’d got over and yes, he hadn’t. Zayn is a total dick and it’s undisputable, but Louis misses him. Louis has always been the one to get attached to people quickly and it’s not easy for him to let go. Of course he texts back with a “thx J”.

 

4 hours of sleep are better than none but try to kid Louis it’s a proven fact. Technically it’s 10 PM, not so late, but the last thing Louis wants to do now is answer calls. He tries ignoring it for good 10 seconds, unable to move. But then he realizes that this might be the call he’s been waiting for.

Louis smiles, secretly hoping he’s rights.

\- Heeeeey Lou! – he’s right!

\- Hi Hazza! - Louis knows he sounds embarrassingly happy for someone who just woke up, but hey. Who cares?

\- Happy Birthday boobear! You’re the best boobear that ever boobeared the Earth. Miss you lots! – Harry singsongs, his warm voice wraps itself around Louis’ heart in its usual way.

Louis bursts with laugh when he hears the nickname.

\- Thanks Harry! How the hell do you know about the nickname though?!

He can almost hear Harry smile and imagine the dimples popping instantly, even

though he can’t see the younger boy. Ugh.

\- Heard your mum calling you that lovely name when we were at the airport. Suits you so well! – he chuckles.

\- Shut up!!

\- No offense, boobear. It just sounds so sweet. How's your day going?

\- Just hanging out with mum and the girls, nothing special.

To someone it may sound boring, but when your life outside these four walls has turned into never ending interviews and spotlights, you grow to appreciate simple things like that. Louis knows Harry understands him.

\- Tell the girls and Jo I said hi! Aren't you having someone over? Stan? - Harry asks, his voice falters just a little.

\-  No, just gonna have a quiet one, - Louis exhales, thinking about the possible reasons as to why Harry's speech now sounds more like nervous mumbling.

\- Hey Louis… - he starts, - My mum and Gems invite you to stay at our place sometime soon, - and though Louis can't see Harry, he can feel The Blush burning a hole through Harry's phone, - and I really want you to come, too. If you have time of course because if you want to spend the rest of the vacay with your family it's totally okay and fine and.., - he blurts out.

\- Hey hey Harold, slow down a little, - Louis chuckles. That boy.

\- Sorry, - he hears Harry whisper.

\- I'm all in, dude. Just need to tell me mum, okay? Are Niall and Liam invited too or I can start feeling special?

\- It's... I invited them but Niall says he doesn't want to miss his brother's wedding and Liam plans on going to France with his parents. So, yeah, uh... it's only you.

\- I feel quite honored! So, when should I arrive?

\- Anytime! - Harry exclaims, so much excitement in his voice it makes Louis feel ten times better about himself.

\- Alright, I'll call you tomorrow and we'll figure it out, okay? I'm just really going to fall asleep while still on the phone, if I don't go now, - Louis says, rubbing his eyes and only now realizing how tired he is.

\- Of course! Sweet dreams Lou! – Harry murmurs.

\- Sweet dreams, - Louis says, voice soft like never before.

He hangs up, the indefinite feeling in his chest coming back.

He wanted to tell Harry about Zayn, but it didn't feel right. It would only make the younger boy sad, and Louis would never want it.

Talking to Harry makes him feel warm at heart.

 

 

When he told Jo about the invitation, she didn't mind Louis going at all. Of course she was going to miss him a lot, he could definitely see a hint of slight regret in her eyes. But the woman was happy to see her son making fiends, so naturally, she didn't protest. His sisters sulked a little, but quickly warmed up.

Louis himself doesn't know why he's going. He thinks about it on a train to Holmes Chapel. Louis had to buy a whole compartment just to feel safe from the omnipresent fans. He loves meeting fans but there are these "special" fans called "stalkers", and they just follow you around everywhere you go. The only thing they care about is a photograph. Louis thinks it's not very fair. One Direction is super fan friendly, always having fan sighs and meet-ups. But apparently, whatever they do, it's never enough. There will always be a girl or a boy (yes, boys too) who wants a piece of you. Quite literally a piece. There was one girl, who tugged on Liam's ear so hard she almost ripped it off. It wasn't that big of a deal, but still a rather unpleasant experience.

That's why Louis is happy to have some space just to himself, because he really needs to think. He wonders if it is really Anne who wants him over, or it's just Harry, too shy to tell it as it is? A smile invites itself in the corner of his lips. What, it could be a possibility after all.

 

Then there is Zayn. Louis really wants to have a heart to heart with him, but their conversation died with Louis' reply. Maybe they could still be friends if Zayn keeps his negativity at bay? Who knows.

One of the Modest's full time drivers is already waiting for him, when Louis arrives. 20 minutes later they enter Holmes Chapel, a little north-western village. They pass an old church made of red bricks, some tiny local shops. Louis imagines Harry wandering about these streets... he likes it here already. Holmes Chapel is very cozy, Louis even has a feeling this is a kind of place everyone would feel at home at.

As soon as he gets out of the car, the snowflakes start sinking on his face, falling behind the collar of his jacket down his neck. Ticklish.

Somebody must have seen them approaching, because the next second the front door opens and Anne appears on the porch. He understands it's for security purpose. If the fans find out Harry is here, his family can say goodbye to the peaceful holiday. That's why Louis wears clothes he would never normally wear and has a pair of sunglasses on. All for the same purpose.

He grabs his backpack and hurries to the entrance. Anne smiles at him so bright. Harry has her smile, that's undeniable. She hugs him tight, like his own mother would do. Together they enter the house.

The house is just like Louis imagined it to be. You know when you try to guess what someone's apartment or house looks like based solely on this person’s appearance and character? The room itself glows with hospitability, every little detail welcomes you here, and the atmosphere is just… warm. Anne gestures to an armchair in front of the fireplace, a roaring fire lights up the room. It’s that time of the year when it usually starts getting dark early, and the gentle caress of dusk is lulling Holmes Chapel to sleep. It almost feels magical.

Just when Louis is starting to wonder where the hell Harry is, the younger boy emerges from the kitchen. Tall, curly, blush in his cheeks, and what is this? Is he wearing an apron? Yes, yes he is.

Harry’s face instantly lights up when he sees Louis is here, he takes off his apron (such a pretty pink color that is, Louis must admit) and with a loud “Heeeeey!” he goes for a hug, his enormously big hands are almost too hot in contrast to his cold body. It’s awfully cold outside and it feels like those goddamn snowflakes haven’t melted away just yet. But Harry’s embrace makes him warm in no time.

\- Lou, god you’re so cold! – Harry says, breaking a hug.

_Yes I am, so you might as well just keep holding me._

_-_ Harry, go pour Louis a cup of glint wine and I’m gonna get a blanket, - Anne fusses around him more than she does around Harry, and it’s quite funny.

Harry nods and heads to the kitchen, Louis tagging along.

The kitchen is light and not too spacious, but this just adds up to its charm. Louis can smell a scented candle, and the boy is sure this is Harry’s doing. He has a thing for scented candles, he told him once. While Harry is busy with the beverage, humming some Christmas tune, Louis has no better alternative rather than stare at his back. Harry’s wearing a white sweater and honestly, he looks angelic with his chaotic curls. If you asked Louis to name the color of those curls, the only thing he would come up with would be “milk chocolate”, because just “brown” couldn’t be more of a cliché and would never do justice to those soft curls. Well, Louis doesn’t know for sure if they are soft, because he never touched them, but they look it. It doesn’t matter though.

Gemma isn’t here yet, because it’s the midterms time, but she’s coming in two days. Harry misses her so much and it shows. As they sip on glint wine, Harry tells Louis about things they used to do together when they were little and hiding places they had. The younger boy promises to show them to Louis, his eyes glowing like he’s five years old. Louis thinks he will go anywhere if that makes Harry’s face light up like this.

\- Oh, I almost forgot, - Harry suddenly exclaims, jumping on his seat and storming out of the room without any explanation.

However, two minutes later he returns, holding a package wrapped in red glittery paper.

\- Happy Birthday Lou…And Merry Christmas I guess, - he smiles, passing it to Louis.

Louis remembers that he also has a present for Harry and chuckles, because he knows Harry is going to love it. He takes the package from Harry’s hands and quickly unwraps it. Inside is what seems to be the softest, warmest scarf he’s ever happened to touch. The color is gray, and it’s Louis current favorite one. He doesn’t even want to guess how much Harry splurged on this present, but it’s one of those simple but exquisite things, things that are timeless. There’s only a light scent to it, Louis can’t identify what it is, but he wish he could wrap this scarf around his whole body just so he could smell like this, too. He looks up at Harry, a smile tugs at his lips.

\- This is so beautiful Harry, thank you very much. I have no idea where you got this, but I have never seen anything like this before.

Harry smiles again, persistent blush in his cheeks (but let’s just admit that it looks pretty).

\- My mum actually taught me how to make this, so yeah, haha, - a nervous laugh escapes his lips.

Louis raises his eyebrows, because now this is surprising. Not only did he make it himself, it probably took a shit ton of time… Why is Harry like that?

\- Are you kidding me? You made it?! I don’t believe you! – Louis can’t help sounding so amazed.

\- Ask my mum if you want to, - Harry laughs, sticking his tongue out.

\- Why on the earth are you so perfect at everything you do? – Louis mutters, poking Harry’s stomach and instantly feeling his sides getting poked in return. Lovely!

\-  Thank you Harry, really. It’s amazing, you are… amazing, - his voice sounds serious now, and Harry almost looks scared, but then Louis remembers about his present.

\- Wait a sec, I’ll be right back, - he blurts out, running upstairs where Anne claimed to have taken his backpack to.

 

He runs down as fast as he can because he’s actually more excited than he was for his own gift. He hands it over to Harry, and the latter unwraps it with a speed of a lightning. It’s a medium-sized photo album, which Louis and the boys filled with photos and selfies they’ve made during the last two months, and it turned out to be a lot of pictures. The boys mixed it with wishes and some sweets they know Harry can’t live without. Louis looks at Harry’s face, totally not expecting to see the younger boy on the verge of crying. Louis saw him crying over Titanic once, though… He doesn’t get to think about this much, because the next second he’s being pulled into a hug (Lord, he’s never been so frequently hugged before, the fans don’t count).

\- Thank you Lou, - Harry whispers in a very soft voice, - I think this is the best one I’ve ever gotten.

Louis leans back to look at him, and there’s so much gratitude in Harry’s eyes that are rimmed red, he can’t help smiling. He knows how much this album means for Harry, the boy who so desperately wanted to fit in their company, and now they’re all such a good friends, the photos being yet another proof. Speaking of photos – there is not a single photo with Zayn. They were careful not to include them.

Louis’ phone vibrates. It’s Niall, spamming their group chat with memes only he understands, but then he informs everyone Grease is on the TV. Louis is rejoicing inside, because he fucking loves Grease.

\- Hey Hazza, let’s get over with all these sentiments and go watch Grease? It’s on right now, or so Niall broadcasts.

Harry giggles. He’s now holding the album close to him like a cherished treasure and it almost makes Louis roll his eyes. The younger boy nods and says: “Love Grease!” before exiting the room.

 

Louis has no clue how they end up cuddling with each other (well, it’s mostly Harry cuddling with him), but the feeling is nice. All sorts of nice. Harry is a perfect person to cuddle. He smells of sweets and baby shampoo, and it’s like his head was made for resting on Louis’ shoulder. The flashbacks of that night when they all got drunk and played fuck-marry-kill are racing through his mind, but it’s so different this time. So much better.

The movie is coming to an end, and Harry raises his head. He’s been dozing for the last forty minutes, and when he turns to look at Louis, there’s a sleepy expression on his face which makes him look even more cherubic. The light from the TV is dancing on his face, discovering a lot of red glitter all over his cheekbones. Looks quite aesthetic

\- You have that red glitter all over your face, you know, - Louis whispers, his eyes now darting over Harry’s features.

He’s very much aware he’s staring, but he’s helpless. Harry and glitter should be a package deal.

\- You look great though.

Harry is silent, John Travolta in the background is singing “ _We go together_ _ike rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong”_ and it’s one of the moments Louis makes sure to remember. The next thing he knows is that Harry’s arms are now around Louis, keeping him close and tight. Finally, Harry’s breath slowly evens out, his hold weakens but it’s still here, fingers entangles in Louis’ hoodie.

Louis doesn’t mind at all.

_When we go out at night_  
_And stars are shinin' bright_  
_Up in the skies above_  
_Or at the high school dance_  
_Where you can find romance_  
_Maybe it might be love_


	6. here we go again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update! The uni is killing me :(  
> I would really appreciate if anyone left any feedback on the grammar stuff, I feel really doubtful about this part of the story most of the time.  
> Thank you for reading it anyway .xx

He doesn’t want to leave this house. He feels rooted to every part of it: to the little cozy room he’s been sleeping at, to the softest blankets and the tastiest food, to the doors Harry and Gemma painted white when they were kids. He fell in love with its silent tranquility, because this place gives him a sense of freedom, a fleeting opportunity to forget who he is and what is happening outside of these walls. He feels like home.

For the past couple of days Harry and Louis have been sneaking out late at night, because Harry wanted to show Louis around and Louis was eager to learn. Holmes Chapel has a character that sets it apart from countless English villages. Louis loves the way Harry’s eyes light up every time some particular place brings him pleasant memories, and how he starts talking really fast as if afraid that Louis might suddenly run away. It’s truly endearing. They’ve been to an abandoned mill that hasn’t been in use since god knows what year. It was mostly empty, just a bunch of dusty iron poles and floorboards, which creaked under the weight of their bodies. It smelled of wood and hay, and the sense of abandonment was palpable. As if this poor, godforsaken mill was begging them to stay. And the time was frozen.

The boys stayed there until the sunrise, and even though they couldn’t see it from the highest point of the mill (it wasn’t safe after all), they watched the village being wakened to consciousness. Even the steam that was their breathing and the cold in their bones couldn’t diminish the beauty of it. Harry was sleepy and could barely move, but he looked so delighted. He was smiling with his eyes half closed, suppressing a yawn, standing there with his hands wrapped around his own body to keep warm, squinting hard but not turning away.

\- Haz, - Louis whispers, feeling the tiredness wash over him vigorously, - we gotta go back. Either we die here or your mum will end us as soon as she finds out we’re not home.

Harry turns to look at him. He’s not smiling anymore, but his eyes are.

\- What, you’re afraid of my mum now? She loves you more than me, so if anything, it’ll all come down to her lecturing me.

\- Yeah, but I’m the oldest one and, therefore, more responsib-

Suddenly he feels Harry’s palm pressing violently against his lips.

\- You're so terrible to me, Louis, it's unbearable! - Harry pouts, his fingers warm against Louis chin.

Louis grabs Harry's wrist and twists it, careful not to hurt him, but intended to teach the kid a lesson.

Harry twitches, but from the way his dimples make an appearance, Louis can tell he's not offended at all.

\- Really Haz, we'd better go.

Harry frowns but gives in, and they head out home.

 

Next morning they have to get up at ass o'clock because it's the last day of their vacation and it's time to get back on the road. On one hand Louis can't wait to be back on stage, singing his heart out and having fun, but on the other hand, he knows he's going to miss Holmes Chapel a lot. He's spent here 4 days, and while it's not that much of a time, Louis' got a soft spot for this place, for this house. When he kisses Anne and Gemma goodbye, he almost feels the lump in his throat. During his stay, they couldn't have been kinder to him. Louis definitely fell in love with the Styles family.

As soon as they get in a car, which is to drive them to London, Harry falls asleep on Louis' shoulder. Harry is sucker for other people's shoulders as places to fall asleep on. But Louis doesn't mind. He stopped minding it a while ago when he realized that no one can be Harry's friend without letting him ruin their personal space. You've just got to accept this fate.

Sticking to the plan their management came up with, the band is going to stay in London for a while, writing for a new album and rehearsing. Louis doesn’t know where they are going to live, the management haven’t mentioned it yet, but Louis would kill for his own apartment. Eventually hotel rooms wear you out, and it’s just nice to have your own space, isn’t it? So the boy hopes, that maybe, he’ll be able to rent one.

But then Louis’ thoughts take another turn, and the images of Zayn’s grim face start filling up his head. How is it going to be now? Jesus, Louis has no idea how his weird self can miss someone like Zayn, someone who hates people the way he does, but he misses him. He misses all the boys: Liam’s dad-like supervision, Niall’s jokes and the fuss he makes of everything, Zayn… He just misses talking to him, is all.

Eventually Louis falls asleep too, and when he opens his eyes the next time, he sees small raindrops rolling down the window. Ah, yes, London.

They get to the hotel in no time, unnoticed (thanks God, because now isn’t the best time to get mobbed by a crowd of screaming fans). Louis shakes Harry softly, trying to wake him up. His eyes open unwillingly, as if he was having a dream he didn’t want to end. But the familiar smile blooms on his face, and though he is quite sleepy, he seems to be eager to face the new day, whatever that brings. That’s the kind of flair Louis aspires to have.

The receptionist, a middle-aged lady with the perfect platinum blond and the nails probably made in the most expensive salon London has to offer, tells them their rooms are on the 15th floor and calls some guy over to walk them there. On their way to the elevator, Louis gets a text from Niall that reads: “Where r uuuu me and Lima are up in the rooms, get ur ass here”, which, okay… Louis chuckles.

Finally, they enter the room where Niall and Liam supposedly stay, and instantly get caught up in a tightest hug Louis has ever been part of. Zayn is here too, and he’s not participating. Louis can tell he feels very uncomfortable and confused, so when they break the hug, he decides that he’s not that much of a douchebag and saying “hi” wouldn’t hurt. So naturally, he comes up to Zayn, and the latter looks almost shocked.

\- Hi, - Louis says with an exhale.

\- Hi... – Zayn looks at him in total disbelief. Oh come on.

\- How was your break? Hey man, stop looking so shook.

At that Zayn chuckles. It’s a good sign, isn’t it?

\- Amazing, yours? How’s Jo and the girls? – he asks, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

\- They are good, I’m actually… - he is interrupted by a loud “Louuuu!”, it’s Harry calling him from the other room. 

Louis curses to himself, because he knows what is to come. He turns his head and his eyes meet Harry’s, who is now peeking out of door. The moment he sees who Louis is talking to, his smile gradually fades.

\- Oh, Zayn, hi, - he says nevertheless, voice weak and raspy.

\- Yeah, hi, - Zayn mumbles in response, not even looking in Harry’s direction. It makes Louis sick to his stomach to watch two people that he cares about being so uncomfortable around each other. It is wrong on more than one level. He sighs heavily. It’s escalating again.

Harry gives Louis a weird look and disappears behind the door. Zayn just scratches his head, as if struggling to come up with any words at all. Louis understands the feeling. But he needs to know what is behind that puzzled look on Zayn’s face, so he does the most Louis thing – he asks him directly.

\- Now let's get one thing straight. Harry is as much of a friend to me as you once were. I don’t want to lose you, Zayn. I don’t get where that hate is coming from, and to be completely honest with you, I don’t care. But you need to learn to keep it to yourself. Otherwise you can back right off.

Zayn rises his head, and it’s quite obvious that Louis’ words hit close to home, they were probably too harsh, but it’s the way you should talk to Zayn. Without further ado. Louis learned it the hard way. But the younger boy slowly nods his head. He clears up his throat and looks at Louis, a tiny smile on his face.

\- Yeah, I get it. I was a dick. Louis… I…uh, I miss you? It’s none of my business, you’re right. Just don’t make me like him, yeah? I can’t.

Although the last sentence makes Louis cringe, he won’t ask questions. He's willing to compromise. So he nods, smiling at Zayn. He wants to hug him, but something stops him from doing so, and the simple pat on the back is enough.

They walk in the room where the rest of the boys are sitting in front of a TV, casually chatting and eating pizza. Where there are One Direction, there is always pizza. But as the two of them enter the room, the chatter dies down to complete silence. Louis crashes down on the couch next to Harry, and Zayn sits down next to him. Harry smiles at Louis, but Louis can tell he’s worried by the way his whole body tenses up. Louis knows Harry well enough to notice any mood change, no matter how hard the boy tries to conceal it. He pokes him between the ribs, “Hey”, he whispers lowly, so that only Harry can make it out. Harry twitches and looks up at Louis, puzzled and amused at the same time. Louis just wants Harry to believe in himself.

He turns his head to check on Zayn, who sits with his arms folded and face grim. Did he think he would be welcomed with open arms? Louis doesn’t want to take sides, but he still thinks that what Zayn did was rude and unnecessary. He haven’t warmed up to him completely just yet, so Zayn needs to gain Louis’ trust back.

Louis is too comfortable and too warm not to start falling asleep, so he’s slowly drifting off when he feels something vibrating against his side. It’s either his or Harry’s phone, Louis can’t really tell because they sit so close. He registers someone moving, and so he opens his eyes. He sees Harry unblocking his phone and reading something, a text probably, and then the curly boy sighs desperately. He takes one more glance at the screen and starts getting up. Louis softly tugs at the sleeve of his shirt.

\- Where are you going? – he asks.

Now that he’s fully awakened he can see the unusual hard expression on Harry’s face. It seems so distant and unfamiliar. Harry doesn’t answer, he just passes Louis the phone. One look at the text makes everything click and, _oh, no. Not this bullshit, not again._

Harry looks down at Louis, face disappointed and eyes so sad that it makes Louis want to break this stupid phone in half and tell Harry every bad joke he remembers.

All of a sudden the younger boy starts ruffling through Louis’ hair mindlessly, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. Louis stares back at him, and the soft touch of Harry’s fingers hypnotizes him. Something in his chest hurts so much, tenderly ripping through his ribcage and desperately wanting to get out. Sometimes, when Harry does something endearing, Louis feels this way. He feels this indecipherable mix of sadness with a sweet residue. And all Louis knows for sure is that he can’t name it.

\- See you, - Harry whispers, turning away and leaving the room. Sometimes Harry seems way older than he is.

Louis hears the door shut, leaving him in complete silence. Everyone else is asleep, but Louis doesn’t feel like it anymore. Harry is off having a date with Caroline, and this thought is sick enough to keep him awake. Poor Harry.

Soon Louis gets bored staring at the ceiling, so he decides to wake Zayn up so that he could have his company and smoke. Sweet revenge.

Zayn doesn’t protest much, so they go out on a balcony. The nights in London are never quiet, but this hotel isn’t exactly in the center of the city, thus letting them enjoy a rather silent neighborhood.

\- We haven’t got to work yet, but I’m already tired, - Zayn says, breathing out little smoke rings. Louis can’t make these for shit. He tried to learn once, but it made Zayn end up on the ground laughing and begging him to never try again. Louis didn’t understand what was so funny about it.

\- You’re tired in life, man, - Louis grins, secretly relating to Zayn’s words.

\- I love me some sleep, you know.

\- Relatable.

This is them trying to make some small talk, trying to ignore the tension. But you can’t make it go away by just ignoring it. They need to make their friendship work again, and Louis has an indicative plan on how it’s going to happen, all they need is a day off and loads of alcohol. It always works wonders.

Louis watches his cigarette smolder. His mind wanders off and he starts thinking about the curly boy, out with the greedy woman clinging to his side, because of the greedy people who want to make as much profit as they can. He sighs and spits. He feels cold and very irritated, so without a sound he goes back in the room, leaving Zayn to practice in making those damn smoke rings of his.

Louis crosses the room, snatching up some cold pizza leftovers on his way (ah, the costs of the celebrity lifestyle). He gets to his own room and takes a shower. Shower always makes everything better. This is one of Harry’s axioms. Louis couldn’t agree more.

Just when Louis thinks it’s time to hit the sack, his phone beeps and the screen lights up, notifying him of a new message. He unlocks it lazily, clicks on the message app, and sees that it’s from Harry.

_“What did the grape do when he got stepped on?”_

Oh, no. Louis doesn’t want to know. He knows a dad joke when he sees one.

“What” he types nevertheless, grinning at the screen. The phone beeps ten seconds later, and the text reads:

_“He let out a little wine.”_

Louis quite literally palms his face.

“You’re embarrassing. Are u that bored on that fancy date of urs?” – he texts back, biting his lip. He hopes Harry won’t think the question is rude.

_“Shut uuuuup. Wanna hear another one?”_

“No! Stop it! One more dad joke and I’ll block ur number”

_“The dad joke is a delicate thing. Part knowing humour, part lack of humour. I only deliver the high quality ones.”_

Louis lets out a cackle. He loves it when Harry gets pretentious over such things. Insulting dad jokes won’t get you anywhere in Harry’s books.

“Cool down princess. Are you coming back tonight?”

_“Staying over at her apartment. She is making some fancy food but I’m craving mcdonalds. And cuddles_ _L_ _”_

Oh. Louis’ heart sinks a little. If he could only be there, he would cuddle him to death.

“Awww feel bad for you! ill cuddle you when you get back. Here, giving you a reason to make it out alive”

_“I miss you”_

Well, Harry’s got to stop making him feel this shitty. Louis buries his face in a cold pillow. Honestly, though. Why would he miss him, they saw each other 3 hours ago. Ughhh.

_“Miss u too babycake. Sweet dreams”_

Harry answers with the pigeon emoji. Louis would never expect less from him.

 

By tradition, Louis wakes up because someone is banging on the door. He puts on his sweatpants, grunting and yawning. If this is Liam, Louis will kill him. If this is anyone else, Louis will kill them too, but more mercifully.

He opens the door and sees that it’s Harry.

\- Hey! Rise and shine! - he singsongs, looking fresh and radiating happiness.

\- You have the audacity to come to me, bright and early, and all you can say is "rise and shine"? You used to be much more inspiring, Harold.

Harry laughs. Louis lets him in and Harry sits on the edge of the bed, still unmade and crumpled. Louis is a restless sleeper, it’s true.

\- You know it's 9, right? The vacation is over, Louis. Time to get back to work, - Harry teases, looking up at him, squinting his right eye because the sun beams though the curtains and falls right on his face. His curls are glowing in the sunlight, chocolate dipped in gold. Somehow, his eyes are even greener than they usually are. Louis feels helpless. He wishes he was that beautiful. Beauty is a terrific thing.

\- Don't be a dick. I was about to get up, - Louis whines.

\- You were about to sleep until the end of time, don't you fool me Lewis. We have a meeting in two hours, please be ready.

\- Okay mom.

Harry sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. He gets up and leaves, saying he should call Anne and that he will return later to "check on him". Who is the baby here?

As soon as Harry leaves, Louis goes back to bed. Two hours until the meeting, meaning one hour to get ready, meaning 45 minutes to sleep. Seems like he wins at life.

 

No such luck. Zayn walks in ten minutes later with a tea in one hand and a cigarette in another.

\- Here, - Zayn hands him the cup, not really caring to say hi. Typical Zayn.

\- Thanks! You're a life saver, - Louis says, now genuinely glad that Zayn came. Tea can fix anything, even the toughest of mornings (aka every morning in the history of mornings ever).

\- You know what I really need? A party, ASAP. I haven't gone clubbing for so long! - Zayn says, his voice sounds alive which is unusual.

\- How long is too long? - Louis chuckles.

\- Two weeks? Dunno, it doesn't matter, - Zayn ignores the teasing tone of Louis' voice, - what matters in that you and I, we're going to a party wherever we have a chance, yeah?

Louis raises his eyebrows, taken aback by Zayn's assertiveness. But who is he to turn down such an offer?

\- You, my man, read my mind. Yes, yes we are.

Zayn looks relieved and satisfied. He's starting to remind the good old Zayn. Which is great.

Then Zayn starts filling Louis in on some TV show they started watching a while ago. Louis quit it mid-season, because he was too lazy to catch up. Something Zayn says makes Louis burst with laughter, and that's when he sees Harry standing in the doorway. His face is unreadable, but he grips the door handle so hard his knuckles go while.

\- Sorry to disturb, but we're leaving in ten.

Having said that, he closes the door with the loud smash. Louis bites his lip, because this is not the Harry he is so fond of. He doesn't want Harry to turn into someone like Zayn. He can feel Zayn staring at him, probably waiting to see any reaction, but Louis won't give him that. He quickly dresses up and they leave.

When they get in the car, Harry doesn’t even do so much as looking at them. He’s just staring out the window, listening to music and is definitely somewhere too far away from here. Louis wants to ask him if he’s alright, pinch his cheek and see him break into smile. But Niall sits between them, eating chips and chatting with Liam. What a wonderful, careless creature he is. Louis takes another glance at Harry, but it’s not that helpful because he can’t even see his face. Maybe it’s a good thing.

Zayn starts ranting about some fan that attacked him back in home, appearing out of nowhere. Louis listens carefully, just to busy his tracing thoughts with something else, anything. Zayn’s stories are a handy distraction, but in the back of Louis’ mind there is this red alert light that doesn’t go out, doesn’t let him chill out completely. At times like these, he feels helpless.


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, babes! I hope you had the most amazing Christmas and celebrated the New Year properly. Here's the next chapter, I hope someone's still interested in this story. xx  
> p.s.: Would anyone want me to write the next chapter from Harry's perspective? Which means it would be more angsty and revealing... Please comment, whether or not I should write Harry's POV.   
> Have a nice day!

For the last twenty minutes Louis’ been contemplating saying “Fuck it”, dramatically getting up from his seat and leaving this stiffy room, door smashing and chairs falling – just like they do in movies. The gum he’s been chewing went tasteless long time ago, and for god’s sake, they don’t even have a trash can in here!

Louis has always been the one who couldn’t care less about the whole meeting thing. Does their management really think that the boys are interested in statistics, reports and doughnut charts? Well, Liam seems to be, but with Liam it ends. Louis looks to his right where Zayn sits, and the look on his face is a perfect reflection of what Louis feels. Zayn looks at him and rolls his eyes, and Louis does the same.

On his left is Niall, and the guy is genuinely trying to pay attention to whatever is being said, but he looks so puzzled and keeps scratching his head five times a minute in a way that makes Louis chuckle. Oh Nialler.

Then there is Harry, who fucked off as far away from Louis as physically possible, with Niall and Liam sitting between them. As far as Louis can tell from his peripherals, the curly boy has been texting since the meeting started, not bothering to look up from his phone even once. Fine.

When it’s announced that the meeting is over, Louis suddenly feels too lazy to get up. Why get up? To be back to the proverbial hotel room? He’s had enough of that. It’s when he thinks that it might be a good idea to check on his social media, he sees Harry coming up to him, a confused look on his face, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed pink. Just one look at his face makes Louis’ heart hurt like it’s been stick with a needle.

\- Hey, - Harry blurts out, voice raspy. Louis hasn’t even heard him talk properly today, - why are you still here?

\- Dunno, just don’t feel like going anywhere, - he replies slowly, looking Harry in the eye and trying to decode whatever he’s thinking.

\- Lou, I’m sorry I’m being moody today, probably has something to do with Mercury and its retrograde, - he says in a dead serious, concentrated voice. This makes Louis break into smile right away.

\- I’m sure it has, - he says, beaming. Harry manages a little smile in return.

\- So… Lou, I wanted to ask you about something. Have you… - he says in a tiny voice, stuttering and blushing even more now. Louis rises his eyebrows and nods, in a way that says “go on”, but Harry looks at him as if he’s suddenly just gone mute.

\- Have I what?

But then Zayn, who already went out for a smoke and now smells of Marlboro and snow, approaches them. He looks excited and he just holds a phone out for Louis to read something. As usual, he ignores the fact that he is interrupting a conversation and he’s also unaware of Harry’s presence. Louis winces at the thought that Zayn probably does in on purpose, but reads the text anyway.

Wow, this is some big party coming up tonight!

 

\- Wanna go? – Zayn’s whisper sounds really ecstatic, eyes are shining with excitement.

\- Yeah man, you seriously even asking that question? – Louis feels real happiness filling his whole body, pumping through his veins at the prospect of the party. Now this is life!

He turns to Harry, who stands with his arms crossed and brows furrowed so hard there’s a crease between them, and no trace of blush dancing on his cheeks just a minute before.

\- So what is it you were saying Hazz? – he asks, but Harry doesn’t even have time to answer before Zayn grabs Louis’ elbow and –

\- The car is already here man, gotta go right now! – he singsongs, - should get going Luigi! – having said that, he literally drags Louis away from Harry and towards the exit.

\- Fuck Zayn, give me a minute, we weren’t finished! – he growls.

But it’s too late, they’re already running down the stairs, and with each step the creeping line in Louis’ brain says “PARTY” louder and louder, and the little alarm in the back of his mind goes silent.  


 

This was a killer one. The one you don’t remember in the morning. So it only makes sense that Louis wakes up with his head throbbing hard, a thousand tiny hammers in it. There is a stale taste of alcohol and cigarettes in his mouth, and Louis feels disgusted with himself. 

But even when his primal desire is to stay in bed and start falling apart, the first thing he remembers after standing in a shower for 20 minutes is the look on Harry’s face yesterday. He was seeing him off with badly hidden regret all over his face, in every little detail – it’s like a lightbulb inside him burned out.

Louis ruffles his hair in a useless try to make it look somewhat decent, but fails. He sighs loudly, the cogs in his brain are literally turning when he tries to think. Louis is the one who can’t sit and think his words through, he needs to go with whatever he has and improvise. Naturally, that’s what he does.

He can’t quite realise why his and Harry’s friendship is so fragile. At least, he thinks it is. It’s like Louis is always afraid that he hurts Harry, and maybe he does, and the part of him can’t even stand the thought of it, but on the other hand, how invested in a friendship one should be to get upset about something as minor as an unfinished conversation? “Don’t be stupid, - says a voice inside Louis’ head, - it’s not you leaving him behind for the sake of a party that made him sad (but that one was a dick move too, good job, pal!). It’s Zayn.”

It’s always _Zayn, Zayn, Zayn, Zayn._

Louis knocks three times, but it’s silent behind the door. It’s 8 AM, where the hell might he be?

He hears Harry’s polite cough behind him, he turns on his heels and meets Harry’s questioning stare. The younger boy looks sleepy; his curls are in a complete mess, sticking to his forehead, and his white t-shirt is all crumpled.

\- Mornin’, - Louis exhales, - can I talk to you?

\- Can you? I dunno, - a smug smirk appears on Harry’s lips. And that’s how Louis knows they are alright.

Harry keycards into his room, Louis following him behind. Harry’s room is full of light (because there are people who, unlike Louis, bother with opening blinds) and there is some fresh air to breathe (because, again, someone bothers with ventilation). His bed is made, which makes Louis roll his eyes.

\- So, - Harry turns, eyeing him expectantly, a playful smile twisting his lips, - how can I help you?

\- Listen Hazza, I’m sorry for… Ugh, for what happened yesterday. I really wanted to hear what you had to say, I still do- Harry don’t look at me like that, you make me wanna punch meself in the face! – Louis whines, when he sees that his words are met with Harry’s emotionless stare.

Louis couldn’t describe Harry’s eyes if he tried. Even if he had Cambridge Dictionary as a support, he would still fail. They are intimidating, but not in its basic definition, it’s like when you look in them, you’re in awe right away, you want to surrender, but you weren’t even fighting in the first place. Captivating, beautiful and with a potential to unleash some dark powers to make you kneel before him and do whatever you’re told. All in a form of a soon to be 18 year old.

Louis shakes off the weird thoughts and he doesn’t even know why he’s thinking about this. He doesn’t, and it makes him bonkers inside.

\- It’s okay, Lou, it’s fine, - Harry breaks into smile, and it seems that his indifference was studied, but with Harry you can never know for sure.

The boys were inseparable for the last couple of months, and now it feels like there’s a wall between them. They used to cuddle all the time, tickle each other and just fool around, and Louis feels physically sick of being away for so long (well, it’s been years in Louis’ book). He can’t help the desire to reach out, to touch. It feels right.

\- Oh Haz, - he whispers, suddenly feeling some sort of soft sadness washing over him.

He makes a step towards Harry and pulls him in a hug, Harry’s curls tickling his ears and the smell of fabric softener, all these things he’s missed about being near Harry, they are his favorite things. Harry slightly pats him on the back, and it’s frustrating and confusing at the same time.

\- So, what’s up? You wanted to talk, - Louis says, taking a step back and letting his arms fall to his sides as if exhausted.

\- I don’t know if this is relevant anymore..,- Harry looks at his own feet now, not meeting Louis’ pleading stare, - I-I jus’ wanted to ask if you have already made up your mind about where you’re gonna stay? – he looks up, cheeks pink and voice an octave higher than usual.

This question caught Louis off guard, mainly because that’s exactly what he’s been thinking about for a while.

-  Ermmmm, no? I mean- I spent lots of time looking into the options I have but... nothing really appealed to me so far, - Louis replies, still having no idea about where this might be going.

\- Well... I just thought that... Look, Louis, I'm going to rent a small apartment, 's not far from here. Mum and I went there yesterday, and it's really cute and light and cozy. So I, - he takes a deep breath, and Louis can tell that the boy is dangerously close to a nervous breakdown, - I thought that maybe, I dunno, maybe you-you want to share? Like move in, - Harry's eyes finally meet Louis', - With me, - he exhales.

Louis doesn't even have any first, let alone second thoughts about it, because every cell in his body is screaming " _yes I want this so bad_ ". Louis is perfectly aware that he's beaming like mad, but he couldn't care less.

\- Yes. God Hazza, this is gonna be so good! - Louis can't stop smiling, so he hugs Harry once more just to hide his stupid grin in the crook of Harry's neck.

Harry laughs at him, and he sounds strangely relieved. Like Louis could hypothetically turn down his offer. Like they haven't spent the last two months glued at the hips. Like Harry isn't his best mate.

\- I have already brought most of my things there, so I think we could move in in like, three days? - Harry asks, and he sounds so excited, almost hectic about the whole flatmate thing. There's so much happiness in his eyes, as if Louis moving in with him is the best thing ever. Little does he know...

\- I gotta come clean, man, I'm a pathetic excuse for a flatmate. Never clean, never cook, never help, always make a mess. You'll probably regret your decision the very second I step foot in that flat, - Louis chuckles, realizing that what he said was more of a counter-advertising, - But I guess you love me for who I am? - he looks at Harry, innocently blinking with those long lashes of his.

Harry's smile fades a little, but then the curly boy nods, "of course", he whispers softly under his breath. He looks at Louis, and it's that rare case, when his eyes are not that intimidating - they are dreamy, dreamy is the shade of green and dreamy are the crinkles by his eyes.

 

They move in on Tuesday, and it's that kind of day when those magnetic storms are ruthless, thus making everyone nervous and moody for no particular reason. But neither a taxi driver who fucked up and drove them to a completely wrong district, nor Zayn questioning Louis' sanity when he told the news about moving in - none of that could spoil his mood on this wonderful day.

Zayn keeps bitching about Louis' decision, but Louis ignores his texts. The only approval he needed was his mother's, and she gladly green-lighted to him. Jay always supports anything related to Harry. She definitely has a soft spot for that dimpled smile, and he couldn't blame her at all.

So when he stands in their new flat, looking out the widow and taking in the view, he still doesn't fully realize that this is going to be his place for a while. For how long? He doesn't know. Louis doesn't like rushing things and thinking ahead. He likes enjoying the moment.

The flat is nice indeed. It's pretty little, but nice, with the walls painted white and floor to ceiling windows. There are two smaller rooms, which are supposed to be the boys' bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen. It's already amazingly decorated, and though Louis doesn't know whether this is Harry's doing or the landlord's, it doesn’t need any touch-ups whatsoever, because the overall atmosphere of the apartment is surprisingly pleasant.

Harry emerges from his room, a phone pressed between his cheek and his shoulder, a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other. He nods at Louis and smiles, and it's one of these moments when they don't even need to say actual words to each other to communicate - it's in the looks they give each other and the way they smile, a simple "have a nice day", "take care", whatever you want it to be. It's all about sharing their warmth with each other.

It's time to unpack, and Louis gets down to work, humming some upbeat tune, because he feels like nothing can drag him down. Nothing can go wrong.

 

Later that day the boys go grocery shopping. It's Harry who picks up stuff like broccoli, eggs and a bunch of other equally useless stuff and it's Louis who spends 10 minutes choosing between cheese flavored and bacon flavored chips while Harry whines: "How come this is taking ages" and literally drags him away from the chips stand. It's Louis who suggests getting a bottle of champagne, because "You can't not celebrate the housewarming". Thanks God, they both agree on that one.

 

They get back home, and Harry quickly makes some fashionable healthy snacks that taste amazing, to Louis' great surprise. The boys have a little fight over what movie they are going to watch, Harry wins (purely because Louis lets him, of course) and they end up watching Home Alone. It's like Christmas all over again.

Harry's forehead presses into Louis' shoulder and his hand goes around Louis' waist. The younger boy is a bit dizzy from the champagne, mumbling something into the sleeve of Louis' sweater, something that Louis can't make out.

Moving in is a very exhausting process, which takes away a lot of energy both physical and mental, so when Louis feels his vision going blurry and thoughts all over the place, he's on the verge of drifting to sleep. He reflectively snuggles closer to the warm body next to him, and it feels so good. Does it feel so great because it's Harry's or because it's warm?

Louis is almost asleep when he registers some fleeting movement somewhere on his neck. Something as light as a feather touches his skin, and the boy genuinely thinks it is a feather... but here it goes again, up, up, reaching his jawline and stopping there. So light, barely even there, pressing tenderly into his skin. Making him shiver.

Louis almost wishes it lasted forever.

 

It’s still dark outside when the boy wakes up tangled up in a blanket, alone. He doesn’t know what time it is, and he doesn’t particularly care. What woke him up was the sickening feeling of a sudden realization, an assumption that came to him out of nowhere.

He loves Harry’s company, their friendship has become an important part of his life, the curly is like a brother to him. But what if it means something more for Harry? Because Louis is pretty sure that what happened tonight was Harry’s soft lips on his neck and the very image of it is sickening enough. This is confusing, to say the least. This is intimidating. Louis never believed in God, but he prays that Harry falling in love with him is not the case. This would be… wrong. Harry’s his best friend, this is not what friends are supposed to do, is it?

When it’s morning, his thoughts aren’t all over the place anymore, and the dark of his room doesn’t burden Louis with its unbearable silence, he rings his driver and leaves the flat before Harry even wakes up. He needs some time alone, just to think, and he goes to the studio, wishing he’s the only one who’s crazy enough to go there at 7AM. Louis tried to get some more sleep, but the obsessive thoughts haunted him till the sunlight hit his face, beaming through the thin fabric of the curtains.

But Mercury is in retrograde, after all, so when Louis arrives at the studio, he can tell right away that he’s not alone. Zayn’s jacket hanging on the coat rack and the muted guitar sounds tell him he’s not having a lot of luck. The boy sighs, blows his fringe off his forehead and enters the room, mentally preparing himself for yet another bitter conversation. It’s definitely not what he needs right now.

Zayn’s sitting on the floor, absent-mindedly picking some random chords, brows furrowed in concentration. He is humming something to himself, too absorbed in the music to notice Louis.

\- Hi, - Louis greets him, throwing his jacket on the sofa and sitting next to Zayn, - what’s up? Not feeling like sleeping?

Zayn flinches and looks up, meeting Louis’ eyes, and his expression is just a little bit irritated. He always gets annoyed when someone or something distracts him from whatever he’s doing.

\- I guess, - Zayn replies reluctantly, face grumpy. Well, he clearly got his message across.

After 10 minutes of complete silence, Louis, who is now making himself a cup of tea, hears Zayn’s voice.

\- Turns out it ain’t that nice to live with him, huh, Tommo?

Louis quickly turns around, leans against the counter and faces Zayn, feeling his cheeks burn with the flush. Goddamn it.

\- Out of all people I know, you’re the best at jumping to conclusions without knowing shit, - Louis says calmly, voice sarcastic and bitter. Zayn’s apparently back at it again with hating on Harry and Louis’ having none of it.

The younger boy narrows his eyes and shakes his head, a bitter smirk on his face. He puts the guitar down and stands up, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear.

\- Chill, Tommo. I don’t give a shit, - he hands Louis a cigarette and gestures to the back exit. They always have a smoke there so they won’t get papped and the evidence of their bad habits won’t be shoved into the faces of their teenage fans. It’s always about minding the target audience.

It’s dreadfully cold outside and Louis doesn’t even want to smoke that much, but he still follows Zayn. Plunged in his thoughts, he inhales the bitter smoke and lets it fill his lungs; the nicotine instantly puts his mind at ease.

\- Jake is throwing a bomb party tonight, you coming? – Zayn asks, like nothing’s wrong.

Louis can’t say “no” to a party. More importantly, he can’t say “no” to Jake’s party, because those are legendary parties.

\- Yeah, course, - he finishes his cig and looks at Zayn. The younger boy has a little smile tugging at his lips. Louis smiles back.

His phone is buzzing in his pocket, and when he pulls it out, there is a text from Harry, which makes Louis feel ten times shittier.

“ _Where are you Lou? X_ ” is all it reads, but Louis can imagine Harry’s confused face when the boy realized he was alone in the apartment. This text looks sad to him. It seems like Louis fails to be anybody’s best friend these days.

“In the studio, couldn’t sleep” he types in and hits send. The kisses still linger on his neck, each burning a hole through his skin. 6 in total. And Harry made it count.

Louis can’t get this out of his head. It’s probably a false alarm and a major overreaction, but Louis could never kiss Zayn like this. Or Niall. Or anyone he doesn’t have romantic feelings for. The only option that seems logically appropriate is that Harry is a lunatic and probably doesn’t even remember it.

When they get back in the studio, Niall and Harry are already there, talking lively with their sound tech who dropped by to check on some stuff for their crew.

When Harry sees Zayn and Louis walking in together, his smile vanishes in no time and when he tries to put it back on, it doesn’t look sincere. The sickening feeling in Louis’ stomach is back, and his first urge is to comfort, to hold, to do whatever it takes to have that wonderful smile back. He’s shit at expressing feelings and he doesn’t know how to show Harry that _he cares_ , so he just comes to him from behind and puts his chin on Harry’s shoulder. Harry jumps in surprise and smiles at Louis with _that smile;_ mission complete. There must be some scientific explanation as to why it’s so nice to be around Harry, Louis thinks, wrapping Harry’s wrist with his fingers and breathing in as deep as he can, so he can have some more of that fabric-softener-all-things-clean smell that Harry wears.

Finally, Julian arrives and they spend the next four hours running through his notes and rough outlines for the next album, discussing lyrics and tunes. At some points Zayn suggests they record something hip-hop influenced, but Julian breaks him off, “It’s not what One Direction is about” he says. Zayn scowls and stays silent until they’re finished.

“Get in my car when you’re out, we’re going to Jake’s right from here” – Zayn’s message goes through right when Harry asks Louis what the latter is going to do for the rest of the day. Louis sends Zayn a killer stare across the room and locks his phone.

\- Uh, I’m going to a party tonight, - he says, praying that Harry won’t get offended.

The younger boy looks Louis in the eye and the smile on his lips is so tiny that Louis hates himself even more.

\- I see, - Harry nods slowly.

\- You- you wanna come with us?

Harry shoots a quick glance in Zayn’s direction and shakes his head.

\- It’s okay, Lou. I’m not a party kind… I’d better go home, - Harry mutters, putting on his coat and quickly buttoning it up.

Louis feels Harry’s disappointment; he can’t help feeling, because this boy is like an open book when it comes to emotions.

\- Hey, Hazza, hey, - he blurts out, catching Harry by his wrists and pressing them to his chest. He has no idea why he’s doing this. It works like an instinct. Louis just knows that he needs to do something.

They’re just standing there looking at each other. Louis doesn’t say a word and neither does Harry.  His eyes are lingering on Louis’ neck and his skin is burning under Harry’s intimidating gaze. It’s like Harry’s searching for some kind of proof, for some marks that can’t be seen by definition. Louis’ pretty sure that he’s never felt this awkward in his whole life.

Finally, Harry pulls his hands away from Louis. He nods at him, “See you”, he whispers and leaves the room.

The world keeps spinning, but Louis feels like he’s out of synch.


	8. all I want is the taste that your lips allow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the ice is broken, we're up and running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves! I hope you all are doing great. I'm back with another chapter, Harry's POV this time. Let me know if you want me to go back to Louis' POV or if I should stick to Harry's. I hope you'll like it!

What do people do when it gets hard? It’s pretty easy to give out some advice right and left and say “keep going”, “fake it till you make it”, yada yada yada, but let’s face it, it’s not helpful. Just hearing it from someone doesn’t do the trick, it’s up to you to decide which parts of yourself you should give up in order to get over.

Harry can pinpoint the exact moment when it all went downhill. Some may say he’s overthinking or that he shouldn’t be sad about something so minor, but the thing is, to Harry this isn’t minor at all.  It’s not minor when your body aches because you crave someone’s attention so badly, but you don’t get any, it’s not minor when you put up a smile every single day just for that one person, but they don’t even give you the time of day. And it’s certainly not minor when you’ve spent countless nights lying awake, trying to suppress feelings that are just too intense to go unnoticed. Trying to assure yourself that you’re wrong, your brain is just confused, too tired from all the rehearsals and interviews. But unfortunately, you’re too smart to fool yourself. Whatever makes you feel like you’re falling apart is not okay by definition.

It’s been 4 months since Harry and Louis moved in. The first days were amazing, they had to stock up on some furniture, went grocery shopping and were doing all that domestic we-just-moved-in stuff. It required them to spend days together. Harry hates how he uses the word “required” in his thoughts, as if it’s always been “required” for Louis to hang out with him. Like Harry’s some kind of burden. Harry shakes off this disgusting thought; it’s not a direction his train of thoughts was supposed to take. He hates feeling sorry for himself, but it’s all he seems to have been doing lately. Deep down Harry believes that it’s his own fault. He shouldn’t have offered Louis to move in in the first place, because now Harry’s growing to hate this apartment more and more. Because things aren’t the way he expected them to be. Because Louis’ never home.

If Harry’s heart got broken and no one was around to hear it, did it make a sound?

It must have been too much. As if constantly tugging at his sleeve and boring him with not so funny jokes was not enough, he had to make Louis share an apartment with him. Although Harry realizes that it must have been convenient for Louis at the time and he’s just too polite to say “no” anyway, right now Harry knows that Louis might find something better. Some place he could invite his countless “bros” to or throw parties. Harry is in no position to get upset about it, it’s himself he’s disappointed in. The curly boy wishes he could be funnier, smarter or could get on with Louis’ friends. He wishes he were enough for the boy he fell for like a ton of goddamn bricks.

9 out of 10 times Louis opts for spending all his free time with anyone but Harry. And 1 out of 10 times Harry feels lucky. It is when Louis is too tired to go and get smashed that he prefers their living room to the dancefloor. At these rare times, the older boy just wraps himself in every blanket he can find and watches football matches. Harry made it a habit of not bothering him with his nonsense little talks anymore, so he just sits quietly on the other side of the sofa and pretends to watch whatever Louis’ watching. Needless to say, he’s not even into football. Harry doesn’t know why he voluntarily puts himself through this. It’s become his way of making the most out of nothingness and trying to enjoy Louis’ presence.

Gone are the cuddles and gone is the sweet sensation Harry felt every time Louis so much as acknowledged him. It’s not that they don’t talk anymore, but their chat always comes back to the band stuff. And it’s okay, it’s not that bad. They just don’t make any memories together now. Louis doesn’t seem to care about it, and so should Harry.

Harry is tired of hurting and tired of coming back to the empty flat. Louis owes him nothing, and it’s not Louis’ fault Harry built up a castle that fell short of expectations. The younger boy is mad at himself for being so sickeningly infatuated with his bandmate, for always having to hold the words back. He can’t blame himself because, you know, your heart never asks your permission before surrendering itself to someone. With no one to blame, the best thing you can do is to pretend. To find something that would distract you from missing and hold onto it like it’s your life vest.

It’s half past seven, and Harry is making pancakes, because cooking is one of a few things that never fails to calm him down. Just as the last pancake hits the pan, he gets a text from Ed – probably the only true friend he has outside of the band. They met at some award ceremony last year and hit it off rather quickly, bouncing off each other and what’s more important, Ed did actually laugh at his lame jokes, which spoke volumes.

_“Heyyy H, I know you’ll say no but there’s no harm in trying yeah? I’m having a party at mine tonight and I’ve not seen you in ages, maybe u fancy coming?”_

Harry is about to type a big bold “NO”, but his finger is hovering above the keyboard. Why the hell not?  He’s missed Ed’s goofy face so much and the last time he checked, he didn’t have a better alternative. Having replied, Harry flips the last pancake and takes off his apron, pushing it across the table like a drama queen that he is.

The boy has a good feeling about tonight. It’s about time to change something. To start something new. To be a better person.

 

It’s not that bad at all. There aren’t too many people and the DJ plays tracks Harry actually likes. The atmosphere is almost relaxing, if Harry does say so himself. Ed’s friends are nice and very down to earth, mainly because they have nothing to do with the business, so unlike Louis’ inner circle. Not that Harry wants to put down Louis’ friends by saying so, they are just… different. Different doesn’t necessarily mean bad.

When everyone including Harry had a couple of drinks, Ed shows up with a guitar in his hand and suggests that they all sing together. Harry is almost crying at how good being here feels. It’s been a while since he felt so… himself, so strangely free.

His mood drastically changes when Ed starts singing one of his songs called “Give Me Love”. As the ginger haired boy belts out _«All I want is the taste that your lips allow»_ , Harry finds himself overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. He signs deeply, rubbing hands over his face. Harry takes a brief glance at the watch on his wrist, contemplating going back home. It’s 2 AM and his party mood’s all gone anyway. So he nudges Ed’s shoulder, whispering some lame excuse but Ed just nods and winks at him. Everyone says their goodbyes and Harry leaves Ed’s apartment.

He would never have thought that parties can be so nice. This one in particular was a pretty good session of sweet escapism. Too bad that reality can’t just disappear or falter. For a moment, Harry contemplates driving to Holmes Chapel instead of going back to the apartment, but then he remembers about tomorrow’s recording session. Ain’t no rest for the wicked.

He meets a couple of fans outside and plasters his usual smile, takes some photos, signs some stuff and finally makes his way to the car. How come these teenage girls are out so late?

 

Louis is doing something in his laptop, headphones on and arms crossed. He looks way too small in a hoodie he’s wearing, and he shouldn’t look so cute, but he does nonetheless. Harry sighs softly, taking off his shoes and heading to his bedroom. It’s when Louis notices him, putting away his laptop and looking slightly taken aback.

\- Hey, - he says, a hint of surprise in his voice, - you’re- where have you been?

Harry tries to keep it cool and not to think too much of the fact that Louis has just acknowledged his absence, which leads him to the conclusion that his presence somehow still matters.

\- I went to Ed’s, - the curly boy answers as casually as he can.

\- Oh, - Louis looks up at him, eyebrows raised, - you were at a party?

\- You could say so, - he says, feeling a smile tugging at his lips.

\- If Niall were here, he’d probably say something about the rite of passage, - Louis chuckles, absent-mindedly ruffling his hair. It looks so soft to touch, and it’s not helping either.

\- He would, - Harry nods.

The way Louis yawns and stands up makes it crystal clear that the conversation is over, and every inch of Harry’s being screams in protest. He wanted to tell Louis about his day and hear about his own, but apparently, you can’t always get what you want. And it stings a lot.

Later, when Harry’s in his room, trying to reevaluate his life choices, every thought, no matter how distant and not-Louis it seemed at first, leads him to the older boy sleeping in the room next to his. Every time he shuts his eyes, all he sees is a bright smile, hair like feathers, delicate hands and blue eyes. He wants all of it, he can’t help it, he’s just a human. Harry knows he’s not too much, but it’s all he has. The boy feels like running through the wall and the heaviness in his heart doesn’t let him fall asleep.

This relationship is like taking one step forward and two steps back. There must be a way out. Harry desperately wants to talk to Louis and spill the beans, tell him about his feelings, but he every time he imagines the conversation in his head, it only makes him cringe. Harry doesn’t want to be rejected, to feel embarrassed. Even if Louis isn’t very straight-forward about his feelings, Harry will sense it. In his books, it’s much better to be ignored rather than rejected. Louis won’t want someone like Harry, when there’s someone like Zayn. The way Louis laughs when he hears Zayn rant about something ever so insignificant, throwing his head back and shaking his shoulders… His soft giggles are echoing in Harry’s head 24/7, but the curly boy never was and will never be the reason for those beautiful sounds.

But Anne always told him that he has to be brave. Not because he’s a boy and is supposed to, but because she wanted her children to be able to stand up for themselves. This time, if he’s going to be brave, it won’t be a matter of defending himself. More like putting his walls down and giving another person carte blanche to tear him apart. However, the boy thinks he owns himself a chance. One tiny chance, one try to make it work. He’s suffering either way, and though there is harm in trying this time, Harry still thinks he deserves that one chance. He’s going to go for it, no matter how scared that makes him.

 

The band is almost done with the recording part, and today it’s Louis’ and Harry’s turn to get their parts recorded. Louis is in a great mood, almost flitting around the flat and humming his parts to himself. The car is supposed to be here in 20 minutes, and Harry decides that it’s just a perfect amount of time to have a cuppa and keep his thoughts from getting all over the place. He asks Louis if he wants one, and that gains him a warm smile and a nod. Just being around Louis and see him shine so bright hurts. Everything hurts. Harry decides that he won’t drop the news before the recording session, because both of them could use a clear head and Harry isn’t the one to hit below the belt.

The session goes great, and Harry even manages to divorce himself from emotion and sing past it, keeping nothing but the lyrics in his head. He only has one job, and it would be a shame if he couldn’t do the bare minimum.

When they’re done and free to go wherever they want, Louis gets a text from Zayn which says that all of the boys and their team are having a party tonight since it’s a wrap on their work. Not exactly a wrap, because all the material they’ve recorded now is to be cut, worked on and put together. But for the boys it’s over. 

Harry feels slightly disappointed by the fact that his confession has to be postponed once again, but at the same time the relief washes over him in waves.

It’s about 8pm when they arrive at the club, and though it’s way too crowded for Harry’s liking, he soon finds himself chatting with a group of people he actually likes. Ed is also here, which is always a good sign. Ed is one of those people you just feel warm around. Ed introduces him to a couple of his friends, Steve and Nick. Nick is a radio host and he’s extremely friendly to everyone, very witty and makes Harry laugh to no end. He has big brown eyes and when you look at him, you’re instantly met with a very kind expression. Harry only met him 15 minutes ago and he already likes him. Steve excuses himself two minutes into the conversation and walks away, muttering “I gotta…” rather faintly. Ed nods at him with an exaggeratedly worried look on his face, but as soon as the guy disappears in the crowd, he breaks into laugh. “He’s probably had too much again, poor lad”. Nick is a nice guy and Steve has no alcohol tolerance. So there’s that.

As the party goes on, there’s no signs of Louis anywhere. With every passing minute the party draws closer and closer to its end and it’s making Harry’s gut clench harder and harder. For crying out loud, he can’t even enjoy the drinks properly and has only had one glass of champagne. Out of nowhere, Niall approaches him and pulls him into the hug, mumbling something into his ear. The guy is proper smashed and can’t even stand on his own feet.

\- Harreh, - he breathes, struggling not to hiccup.

\- Yes, Niall, - he smiles, stroking Niall’s hair up.

\- Ya know I’m after drinking 5 shots of vodka in a row and das was, Harreh, das was wicked.

\- Oh, Niall, you’re going to die from having such big amount of alcohol in that little body of yours.

\- I amn’t, - the blonde boy mutters, trying to stay straight on his feet, - actually I’ve won the bet!

Having said that, Niall turns on his heels and stalks off. Harry giggles at him and goes to snatch himself another glass. He _needs_ to relax and have the most out of this allotted time while he’s still here. While the world still doesn’t know his secrets. While he still feels safe in his shell.

Harry takes a deep breath and orders another glass at the bar. He looks around and takes in the crowd. So restless, alive and consumed by the madness that this party is, no one really pays attention to him and it’s a plus. It’s not that he’s completely turned off by the idea of communicating, it’s just he has a lot of things on his mind right now. All Louis-related.

Someone puts their hand on Harry’s shoulder and when the boy turns around, he’s face to face with Nick The Radio Host.

\- You look bored, Harry, - Nick says, smirking and tilting his head to the side.

\- No, I’m all good actually, just… ugh, just contemplating stuff, you know? – Harry replies, trying to sound as cheerful as he can.

This makes Nick burst with laughter, his voice draws the attention of some girls walking by. Nick winks at them, but the next second his eyes are already on Harry, and there’s something intimidating in the way he stares, it’s like he wants to say something and the words are already at the tip of his tongue, but Nick is purposefully holding them back.

\- Not really into those girls, to be honest, - he says pensively, as if tasting his own words. He pipes down for a while, just staring somewhere behind Harry. He smells of whiskey and matureness, and it’s… captivating, to say the least.

\- Or into any girls for that matter, - he blurts out, once again looking right into Harry’s eyes, - I hope you don’t mind me, Harry Styles?

\- No, that’s… I mean, - the younger boy is clearly taken aback by this confession, considering he’s only talked to Nick once and doesn’t know a lot about him. He just did it so easily, came out to a stranger, like it’s nothing. Harry feels a lump in his throat, and his heart stats pounding twice as hard, because he realizes that he’ll never be that brave.

\- I have no problems with it at all, - Harry finally manages, avoiding to look at Nick.

\- Oh, you don’t? – Nick raises an eyebrow, and the tone in his voice makes Harry panic for a second for Nick is saying it like he knows something.

\- What do you-

\- Listen, Styles, - Nick cuts him off, - this party sucks, to be honest. We can go to another place and I’ll show you a good time. You’ll love it there, what’d you think?

This is starting to take an unexpected turn. Harry may be slow at times, but now he feels the vibe, the hint Nick is giving and… No.

\- Uh, I’m not really feeling like it right now, I’m sorry, - he mutters, feeling his cheeks burn.

Nick chuckles lightly, squeezing Harry’s shoulder tightly and then he just lets go of it.

\- No offence taken, Styles, I get it. But if you ever want to have some fun, text me. Bon soir! – with that he gives Harry his card, which says his name and a phone number. Then he disappears in the now dramatically diminished crowd.

Harry shoves the card into the pocket of his jeans, wondering if it ever comes in handy. He doubts that.

He finds Louis and the rest of the boys at the bar. All of them except Harry are drunk off their asses, to the point where they can’t say anything, and Harry can’t turn their ramblings into anything vaguely coherent. 

Louis isn't completely dead, now he stands with his elbows on the bar and giggles at god knows what. He has a cigarette tucked behind his ear and it's threatening to fall down. Harry has to physically restrain himself in order not to go and fix this.

Louis is beautiful with his eyes shining from all the drinks he's had. Louis is beautiful in his simple black t-shirt that hangs too loose. Louis is beautiful grinning from ear to ear for no particular reason. Louis is beautiful to Harry.

Harry suggests that they call their drivers and go home. There's no verbal answer from anyone, but there's certainly a nod from Liam who looks like he's on the verge of throwing up.

Harry and Louis take one car since they have to be brought to the same place, and the rest of the boys have each their own. Zayn whispers something in Louis' ear before getting into his car, making Louis smile sheepishly. Harry ignores the painful sting in his heart and gets inside. The driver waits until Louis follows him, and they finally leave.

 

Harry's heart beats at the inhuman speed each time he tries to put his feelings into words, but soon enough he gives up. You can't think everything through. You just need to let some things happen on their own.

Their driver drops them off at the back exit just in case and they sneak in safely. Louis proceeds muttering something to himself even when he holds onto Harry's arm for additional support.

\- What's this again? - Harry asks, just in case Louis' flow of consciousness happens to make sense.

\- Nothin' Hazz, it's jus'... you don't leave me here, I dunno which flat is ours, - he giggles,  his hands clasping around Harry's wrist.

\- I'd never leave you alone Lou, - he replies, and though he intended to sound ironic, it comes out pretty sincere. Great job.

\- Yea I know. How I-I've got the worst migraine, I'm aboutta faint, - the older boy whines, - when are we gon' be home?

\- If you let go of my hand for a second so I could find the keys, we have every chance of getting inside very soon, - Harry sighs, looking at Louis' ruffled hair and feeling the fondness spreading across his face. Harry's recently had his growth spurt and he's now taller than Louis. How cute.

\- What if I don't wanna let go? - Louis' voice sounds quite serious, his hands grasping tighter around Harry's.

Harry raises an eyebrow and slowly shakes Louis' hand off, no matter how much he would love to do the opposite.

\- Well you wouldn't want to freeze off that nice bum of yours, would you.

Having said that, he finally turns the key and enters the flat. It's dark and dead quiet, which has an instant calming effect on Harry. Then Louis barges in and bumps into Harry's back. He's clearly much more wasted that Harry imagined.

\- Hey Harry, - he whispers, voice raspy and tired.

\- Yes?

But there was no answer. When Harry turns around, the picture in front of him is somehow both discouraging and endearing. The older boy fell asleep right there, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall. Harry slowly lifts him, careful not to wake him up. Louis weighs nothing, he's like a freaking feather and it feels so nice just holding him so close, that for a moment Harry just stands there still, one again struck by the realization how much this boy means to him. He doesn't know if he's going to say the words he wanted to say anymore. Maybe today is not the day.

He takes Louis to his room and stays there just to admire the view. It probably sounds creepy, but Harry doesn't know when or if he has a chance to spend time in Louis' company again. Harry finds solace in the way Louis' tiny frame moves sharply with every breath he takes, how his long eyelashes flutter in his sleep and how he slowly curls up in a ball as if he's cold. Harry wishes he could keep him warm.

"I think I'll never find the words to say the things I want. This is how much you affect me. I wish I could affect you too", - Harry thinks to himself, trying not to pay attention to the knots in his stomach. He studies Louis' face like it's a painting and he's so deep into his thoughts he doesn't even realize he's been staring into the blue eyes for a while.

\- How do you mean? - he hears Louis' unsteady whisper.

Everything suddenly comes crashing down. Harry didn't think it, he said it out loud. And Louis happened to be awake to hear it. At first Harry wants to pull back and come up with some bullshit like "I was just thinking about some lyrics", but then something in his heart cuts off all the escape routes and Harry decides he's had enough.

\- I like you Louis. A lot, - he blurts out, way more quiet that he wanted, but he does it.

Louis props himself up on his elbows and his face gets dangerously close to Harry's. The curly boy swallows thickly, his heart is about to jump out of his ribcage, and Louis is still silent. There's a frown on his face that doesn't go away, and Harry believes it's a bad sign. But then Louis' face grows even closer to him and the boy has no idea what's happening until he feels the warm lips against his own.

They're just pressing gently, it's not anything steamy, nor is it hot in any way, but for Harry it's too much. The boy is so overwhelmed that he can't move. It's over before you could even count to 5, but Harry doesn't believe that this just happened to him. Louis, his best friend and his biggest crush, just kissed him. Harry's eyes are wide open and he's aware that he's staring at Louis. Louis' face expression remains exactly the same it had been before he decided to cross the line and kiss Harry.

Suddenly the older boy reaches out and tucks the curl behind Harry's ear. His gaze is intense, but Harry can't decipher its meaning.

A faint smile appears on Louis' face as he lies in his back and just watches Harry.

\- Soft, - he murmurs, - your lips.

With that he closes his eyes and falls asleep at once, a smile still on his face.

Harry feels too excited to sleep, so when he’s lying in his own bed half an hour later, he still feels Louis' lips on his, the tenderness of the touch he had never felt before.

Harry isn't going to get his hopes up. God knows why Louis kissed him. It could be anything - from being plastered to simply not knowing what to do and how to make Harry leave. Harry doesn't know.

The only thing Harry can stick with for the time being is the memory of Louis' lips and how great they felt. He doesn't know if he did the right thing by getting his feeling off his chest, but kissing Louis sure felt right.


	9. like gold to airy thinness beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets problematic and even sadder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse whatsoever to justify my absence. All I can say is that it would be so lame of me to write things in a half-assed way. I hope you'll understand. x

_March 12th_

They chose this duvet together, him and Harry. This stupid baby blue duvet that Louis would never choose himself. It’s irritatingly soft, to the point where Louis can’t force himself to get up. The memories of Harry gushing about how good it would look in his room, matching the wallpapers and all that, fill Louis’ head. He sighs softly, rolling on his side and checking the time. It’s still too early to be alive.   
Louis knows he fucked things up when he kissed Harry last night. The truth is, he did that out of the blue, just because he felt like kissing someone at that moment, but the look on Harry’s face, mesmerized and somewhat surprised, is still lingering in his head. It meant something for him, something more than just a drunken kiss.   
Louis is not like that. He’s not gay. Harry means a lot to him… but not in that kind of way.   
The boy gets up, thoughts racing a mile a minute because he knows the moment he walks out his bedroom, there’s no way back. He’ll have to talk to Harry at some point, so Louis decides the sooner it happens, the better. He wouldn’t want any misunderstandings to get it the way of their relationship.   
He goes downstairs and finds Harry sitting on the sofa, reading something on his phone and chuckling softly to himself. His curls are slightly damp as if he just showered. He looks so domestic wearing just a simple white t-shirt and sweatpants. Louis’ tongue is swollen with all the things he’s about to say. Now that Harry’s feelings are pretty obvious to him, he feels weird and uneasy.   
Louis leans against the doorframe and clears his throat.   
\- Hey, - his voice husky and sleepy (boy, he wishes it was just a dream)   
Harry looks up instantly, his eyes locking up with Louis, a dimpled smile blooms on his face, cheeks blushing achingly.   
\- Hi, Lou, - he blurts out. He locks his phone and gives his full attention to the boy standing in front of him, and there’s the softest expression on his moon-shaped face.   
\- Hazz, I… ‘member yesterday? Yeah, I, um- I’m sorry, okay? For, like… the kiss? I didn’t mean to, I, - Louis feels like shit mumbling these words, although he shouldn’t. It’s not his fault after all.   
\- Yeah, I jus’ wanted to say, I’m sorry, - he finally finishes.   
He watches the younger boy’s face fall he speaks, the barely-there crease appears between Harry’s brows. He bites his lip and nods his head slowly.   
\- I figured, - he is now blinking fast as if trying not to cry, and Louis is screaming inside.   
Harry’s voice breaks, and he whispers:   
\- But you do remember what I told you?   
\- Yes, - Louis feels helpless because he can’t fix it for Harry. He just- He’s…   
\- Harry, - he says, voice now firm and determined, he won’t let his feelings fuck him over, - I’m not like that, okay? I’m- normal. I’m not- yeah, I’m just normal.   
When the words leave his mouth, he hears Harry inhale sharply, his green eyes wide, the hurt breaks through his pale face.   
\- Wow, - he exhales, the tears sparkling in his eyes are a blink away from streaming down his cheeks, - So I’m not “normal”. I don’t care though, you know? I only care about, - his voice is thick with emotion, he bites his lip, - …never mind. I- I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable.   
The boy gets up and looks at Louis’ face, his eyes needy and miserable, darting all over Louis, as if trying to remember every single detail, as if it’s his last chance to do so. He nods to himself then, lips pursed, and Louis knows he should say something, should apologize for his words, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to do it. So he watches Harry walk away, his eyes still linger where Harry was just seconds ago when he hears Harry’s bedroom door shut.

Doing the right thing doesn't always feel right. Sometimes it feels like going against the current, but in the end of the day, you know that it was the right thing to do.

That's what Louis thinks going out later that day. Harry never showed up again, he might have locked himself in his room, probably wanting to be alone for some time. So there wasn't really any point in staying home. In the back of Louis' mind, there's a voice telling him that he could've stayed and tried to make things better, somehow, but heaven knows Louis is powerless. As sad as it is, Harry has to go through the whole "getting over" part on his own. Louis loves this boy, he really does, like a brother loves his brother. He wants to care about him and watch his dreams come true, but does he want to kiss this boy on the lips? Louis is not so sure. Because so far this part has confused him the most. He did initiate the kiss, meaning that some part of him wanted it, and being drunk is not even an excuse. Louis can distinctly remember the feeling he had blooming inside when he made that decision. He doesn't want to think about it too much.

***

Maybe Harry imagined all this? Maybe this pain isn’t real after all? Maybe these feelings aren’t real? Louis’ words still resonate inside his head, “I’m normal”, he said, he must be disgusted with Harry. He thinks it’s not normal if a boy falls in love with a boy. But why did he kiss him?

The curly boy closes his eyes, alone in the dark of his room, he desperately wishes he could get rid of this exquisite pain which is making a hole in his heart. Good fucking job. He just destroyed their friendship with his own hands. His own naiveté makes him chuckle bitterly. Harry contemplates calling his mother for a minute, but he realizes he can’t go crying to Anne for the rest of his life. It’s his to deal with.

Tomorrow he will try again. There’s a faint hope him and Louis can still be friends. Can still be something more than just bandmates. He feels a lump in his throat when he remembers how their friendship started out, they were glued to the hip just a couple of months ago, before Louis started going out almost every day, hanging out with Zayn and his all-around amazing friends.

Harry turns to face the wall and wraps his blankets around himself, still shivering with emotions and thoughts that will probably keep him up for the rest of the night. The boy is angry at himself for being such a baby. He knows Louis doesn’t owe him a thing, no promises were made, no one has to care about him and babysit him. In his now broken heart he knows he’s too boring for Louis to be interested in him. He feels tears rolling down his cheek but he’s done trying to wipe them away. Harry knows too well that they’ll dry on their own.

***

 - Louis, mate, look alive! You okay?

Zayn sounds concerned, but not really, as concerned as one could be sipping sangria, surrounded by beautiful girls, each of them trying to get their hands on the fittest boy in the room. Which is Zayn, of course. Louis doesn’t feel jealous at all, for now all his thoughts are preoccupied with the boy he left home. He can’t get rid of the feeling that he did something wrong. He should’ve apologized. But in the grand scheme of things, it won’t fix things for Harry, so why try?

\- Yeah, just, you know… tired, - he drawls, the alcohol starts slowly kicking in.

His mind is slowly clearing up, his body moving with the beat, and soon enough he finds himself carried away into the crowd, his bangs are sticking to his forehead, he feels someone’s hands on his waist, but he keeps his eyes closed. The boy just dissolves in the people, the music, the moment, the voices.

But even all the voices in the room can’t mute the one that is his own, inner voice. He wants to stop thinking for a moment, he wants to breathe in for once and not feel guilty. The thing is, he’s not sure if he’s innocent.

***

The sun is beaming right into his face. The sun is a bastard.

After taking a shower, the only thing Louis’ stomach lets him think of is tea. There’s no cure for hangover better than a good old cuppa. He makes his way to the kitchen. It’s so painfully sunny outside and it hurts just to look at the white furniture. There’s a lot of white in their flat, because London isn’t supposed to be sunny, and white color is supposed to light up space. Well, London clearly played itself today.

Harry is here too, reading something, but when he hears Louis approach, he looks up straight away. Louis avoids so much as looking at his face because Harry radiates pain and regret. He slightly nods at him and starts making tea. Louis can physically feel Harry’s eyes boring into his back.

\- Lou, - he says softly, so softly Louis thinks he imagined it. But he turns around none the less.

\- Yes? – he hates that he doesn’t add any pet name to it, but he just can’t. As if there’s some line between them now, something he can’t quite cross.

\- Do you maybe want to- to go to Ed’s today, I mean, with me? He’s having a party, sort of, I thought that maybe you’d fancy joining?

Well, that’s surprising. Louis almost says “yes”, but then the images start flashing in front of his eyes, of how it’s going to be, and before he can make it stop, he realizes that party means alcohol, it means Harry will be there too, and last time it happened he made things so much worse. Going to that party with Harry means they’ll end up kissing in the dark again, Louis knows how it works: the desperate, badly sheltered heart of the boy who falls too hard and the one who’s drunk, sympathetic and needs a warm mouth. He can’t hurt Harry like that. He won’t.

\- Um, I’d really like to, but I already got plans, sorry, H, - Louis manages, he sounds weak and what’s even worse, insincere.

Harry averts his eyes and nods. Something has just changed as if the atmosphere in the room shifted, Louis can tell. As if they just drew clear lines and set the record straight. There’s a feeling of irreversibility like Harry finally made up his mind. His eyes get darker and sadder with every blink. Louis almost wants to ask if he’s okay. But Harry manages a tiny, forced smile, grabs the book and walks out.

Louis stares at the wall in front of him and wonders if he’s ever felt this hopeless before.

***

_May 25 th_

It's been a while since they last spoke. Louis tells himself that it doesn't bother him, but every time he gets back home and finds the flat empty, he feels a little disappointed. Some days he'd be on his way back home, feeling like a total wreck, with this strange void that appeared out of nowhere, and the only thing he truly wished was for Harry to be there. Not to comfort or talk to him, but just his presence alone used to make things better. This is how it always goes - you never miss the water till the well runs dry. Louis never realized how much of a difference Harry really made by just being around. 

Louis sighs deeply as he goes through his Outlook. Liam just texted him to check it, because apparently, they'll be having a lot of interviews next week, with their promo tour for their new album finally kicking off. Damn, there's a lot. Louis absentmindedly wonders if Harry checked his. 

When Louis turned down Harry's invitation that day, he basically made himself very clear that he didn't want to spend time in Harry's company. However, with every passing day, Louis comes to the realization that it wasn't what he wanted. Of course, it wasn't. But the boy was scared of how the things might have gone. 

That day Harry went to Ed's alone. When Louis got home at 2 AM, he quickly found that the younger boy was still at the party. 

"No Louis, you weren't scared, you were fucking dumb" is what he tells himself. He can't explain the logic behind his actions, not even to himself. He's just so confused and his mind is a mess. He just wants to be able to talk to Harry like they used to. 

These days Harry always comes home late. Sometimes he returns in the morning, trying to sneak in quietly, but he struggles to walk in line - that's how shitfaced he gets sometimes - and makes a lot of noise. It should be driving Louis nuts, only it isn't. It makes him feel something else, instead. Sometimes he has an urge to leave his bed and go help Harry make it to his room, cover him with a blanket and run his fingers through the soft brown curls and wait until the boy drifts off. Then he would press a tiny kiss onto his forehead and leave. 

Louis doesn't know at what point he started adding the kiss part to his rescue plan, but he doesn't question it anymore. He just knows he would do it without blinking an eye. He just feels like it. 

When Louis catches glimpses of the curly boy between the rehearsals, in the morning when they accidentally meet in the kitchen, each one minding their own business, Louis' heart swells a bit. It's been, what? 2 months. But Harry looks different now. The curls are a complete mess, the look in his eyes is ever so indifferent, he doesn't talk as much as he used to, but when he does, it sounds terrifyingly rehearsed. Like a poem learned by heart. Some media trained bullshit to feed people so they would buy into the whole "we're all great friends" lie. In fact, Harry only talks to Niall now. 

Sometimes he feels Harry staring at him, but when he turns to check, there’s nothing. Maybe he imagines this. Maybe he just wants to look Harry in the eye this bad. But he’s sure Harry’s eyes linger on him when he’s not looking. He hears Harry’s steps in the hallway, the way he sometimes slows down passing Louis’ bedroom, as if he wants to knock, but changes his mind. And passes by.

How did it only took them 2 months to fall out completely?

Louis sighs and puts down his phone. He needs something to distract himself. He could go visit his mom and sisters, or he could hang out with friends, or just stay home and sleep. Nothing seems appealing enough. 

He gets back to reading his twitter. A couple of tweets even manages to make him laugh, but then he sees what's trending and- well, he doesn't really want to check, but curiosity takes over and pushes the buttons for him. 

"Harry and Nick" is trending at number 2 in the U.K., and Louis' heart makes a flip when he starts seeing what it's all about. There are pictures, tweets, a ton of them.  Louis clicks on a set of photos. Here they are, pictured in some posh bar, standing too close, personal space crashed, Harry's obviously plastered, he's smiling into Nick's neck and Nick smiles back, his hand on Harry's hip, a shot in the other. The photo is grainy, but it doesn't even matter. Harry looks so much more mature than He is, Louis would say, 20 if he didn't know better. Maybe it's the settings, the surroundings that make him look older, Louis doesn't know. 

Seriously, Harry? Nick Grimshaw, of all people? 

Louis presses his eyes shut, feeling a little burn. Does Harry know what mess has he gotten himself into? 

Even with his eyes closed, Louis keeps seeing the photo again and again. As if the image imprinted into Louis' eyelids as if it’s mocking him, laughing at him. 

Louis has no idea why it hurts the way it does. 

Harry used to be everyone’s baby. He used to radiate love, happiness, and warmth. There’s something ominous in the way he lets a Nick Grimshaw get all grabby with him in some dimly-lit bar, Nick’s staring at him greedily. God knows what Harry’s even on. 

Louis decides to talk to Harry whenever he gets back. Even if he has to stay up all night. But what if he doesn’t come back? What if he goes to Nick’s instead? Louis flinches at the disgusting images appearing in his head against his will.

Does he even have the right to flinch? This is not his life. Harry’s a big boy now and can take care of himself.  

“But you’re worried about him, you care about him after all” the voice whispers.

“Care about him? If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t have left him to mourn over his broken heart alone. You wouldn’t have ruined him with your bare hands. You’d have given him a chance” argues the other voice.

His phone beeps, and it distracts him from his inner dialogue. It’s a text from one of the management’s interns informing Louis that he has a meeting today at 8PM. Louis bites his lip and frowns. He doesn’t remember any upcoming meetings. While he tries to figure out what this could be about, the second message comes through. “This is urgent”, it says. Well, okay then.

***

When Louis arrives at the Syco’s London headquarter, there aren’t a lot of people in the building. He’s running late, but to be honest, he could care less. He hates this mess of a management with everything he has. There are plenty of reasons: right from the start Simon has been playing the “caring dad” role, but Louis sees him right through. Simon never really _makes_ you do anything, he _advises_. But the way he does it, by the tone of his voice and the irritation hidden by a fake smile it’s always clear that whatever he’s “asking” for is obligatory. He asks their stylists to pick different clothes, asks the boys to answer interviewers in a certain way. It can seem strange when you’re not a cogue in this machine, but One Direction is his biggest accomplishment, his biggest project, a highly profitable one, too. So he wants to have every single detail under control. Basically, Syco is just a bunch of puppets. Before One Direction Louis was much more naïve.

There’s a woman across the hall waiting for Louis. Her name is Linda and she’s the one responsible for the whole “image making” thing. Strange enough, but Louis can’t hate her - she reminds him of Jay: same tired eyes, same kind smile which wins him over. The boy knows that she’s just doing her job, and there’s nothing he can do about it.  

 -Hi, Louis. I’m sorry, this was a last-minute decision, so that’s why we have to meet this late, - she says.

They go into the conference room, which is now empty, and Linda has an iPad in front of her. So, no presentations this time. This is going to be a rather low-key meeting, Louis chuckles.

\- So what’s it about? – he asks, eyebrows raised.

Linda clears her throat.

 - So, Louis. It’s obviously not a secret you boys are getting bigger every day, which leads to higher than ever media exposure.

Louis still has no idea where this is going, but nods.

 - You know the thing about the target audience, yeah? You’re a party goer, everyone knows that, and this hadn’t been an issue until Harry started going out, uh- as much as he does. It’s just- you both are part of one band, and we just can’t let this – she vaguely gestures in circular motion – be your band image. There must be a balance, you get it?

Louis sighs.

 - You want me to stop going out? Really Linda?

She shrugs.

\- Not exactly. I mean, yeah, you’ll have to tone it down, but there’s another, uh, thing planned for you. We have to show fans that you’re available, in theory. You know, there are still people who believe you and Harry are in a relationship. So we have to do something about it.

This is starting to annoy Louis.

 - Like what?

 - Let’s say, we found you a girl that you’ll be dating for a while, a love story to sell to tabloids and fans. To stop the rumors. PR-wise, this is also gonna be beneficial. Before you get up and leave, I want you to know that Mr Cowell _strongly recommends_ you to cooperate.

Louis is so taken aback that he doesn’t even know what to say.

 - I… what? Linda, what are you on about? A fake girlfriend?

 - I know this sounds crazy to you, but this is actually a common practice in the business.

 - I don’t want to, - he spits, standing up to leave.

 - Well you kind of have to, - she sounds sincerely apologetic.

He can’t take it anymore.

 - Why don’t you take care of Harry’s image instead? Don’t you care that he’s making out with Nick fucking Grimshaw as we speak?! – he runs his palm over his face, trying to cool down a little.

Linda looks dead serious now, brows furrowed and lips stretched in a line.

 - We’ll step in when necessary, - she replies harshly, - now you’re free to go. I’ll text you the details later. The girl’s name is Eleanor.

Louis rolls his eyes and walks out, feeling even more confused now. Straight up slavery, is what it is.

***

Luckily for him, there still is a show he hasn’t watched on Netflix.

It’s 4 AM when Louis registers the door slam. Louis rubs his eyes, trying to stay awake.

When Harry enters the room, the smell of alcohol and someone else’s perfume fills the space. Louis knows exactly whose perfume this is, he wants to throw up.

 - Why you awake? – Harry blurts out, crashing down on the couch next to Louis and momentarily curling up on himself, clearly intending to fall asleep.

 - I- wanted to talk to you, Harry.

 - Mhhhmmm.

 - Harry?

 - Wha-at.

\- What are you doing to yourself?

Suddenly, Harry sits up.

 - Why do YOU care? – he whispers, eyes narrowed - just remembered today that I exist?

\- Harry, no.

\- Yes, Louis. I don’t care what you think of me, ‘kay? There are people who want my company. People- people unlike you.

Louis bites his lip. He knows he fucked up, he hurt Harry deeply and never said sorry.

 - I want your company, I do, it’s just-

Harry cuts him off.

 - I know! It’s okay Louis. You, - he blinks, eyes shiny and wet, his voice breaks off, but he gets himself together pretty quickly, - you don’t owe me anything. Live your life, Lou. I’ll live my own.

Harry starts to get up, his whole body shakes, and Louis is not sure if it’s because he’s drunk or nervous. Louis reaches out and grabs him by the sleeve.

 - Harry, no… Wait. Please- I still want to, uh, I don’t know, be friends? – he mumbles, not wanting to let go.

Harry freezes for a moment. He stares at Louis’ hand holding him by the sleeve, as if in awe, but then he shakes his head and softly pulls away from Louis’ grip.

 - I can’t be your friend, - he mutters, blinking away the tears, - I-I can’t love you as a friend, Louis. I-

Harry steps back. He keeps blinking, his cheeks are pink and wet, his beautiful green eyes are drowning in tears. Louis feels his heart breaking into a million pieces. He steps closer, but Harry takes one more step back. Louis’ hands are itching, he wants to comfort, to caress, hell, Louis would do anything now to make it stop. To make Harry’s pain go away. He would even kiss him if it helped. But he is the pain.

 -  _Let me go, -_ the younger boy breathes shakily, looking at Louis pleadingly.

“But I’m not even holding you”, Louis almost says, but for some reason stays silent.

Harry closes his eyes, pain written all over his face. Louis has to physically restrain himself not to come closer. He can’t trust himself not to hurt Harry.

 - I’ll be jus’ fine, promise. I just have to find, - Harry’s voice is so quiet and shaky with emotion that Louis doesn’t know if he hears him right, - find someone like you, I-

His voice breaks completely. Harry looks scared, like a child lost in the woods. He slowly turns away and walks out.

Louis feels a lump forming in his throat and his eyes are stinging. Every time he tries to make it better for Harry, he ends up twisting the knife he himself stuck. His heart is nagging with a sense of foreboding, like when you feel a broken bone before it happens.

 

God, Harry must be so fucking hurt. And no one else cares.

Louis doesn’t believe he can fix it. Not anymore.

 

 


	10. you pull me in your arms

 

_2013_

_It’s been a long year_

_Since we last spoke_

_How’s your Halo?_

_-_ So you guys have just finished touring Take Me Home, and gosh, you’ve been on tour for a while! How are you all feeling?

No one is eager to answer that, so Louis decides to take the lead.

\- Oh, we’re obviously very tired, I mean, we did 134 shows in total, isn’t that insane? Personally, I’m looking forward to all the missed parties and nights out with my girlfriend!

The interviewer gave him that pitying slash understanding look, happily buying his words and nodding repeatedly like a nevalyashka doll.

Louis can feel the person next to him shift in his place uncomfortably. He frowns but doesn’t let himself look at Harry. He won’t. He looks down at his own hands, desperately wanting to escape the spotlight right now.

Niall says something else, inaudible to Louis’ ears, for he gets lost in his thoughts, eyes darting over the countless faces in the audience. He hates these types of interviews. 

The last thing he hears before lights go off and they are finally free to have a break, the only thing that catches his attention among all the white noise is “Ganbarimasu! Better days ahead”, in the softest, the deepest of all voices.

 

Even smoking doesn’t make sense anymore. Smoking is supposed to make you feel better, more at ease, isn’t it? Louis’ eyes sting with the smoke but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind the icy northern air clinging to him, despite having put on more than 2 long-sleeved shirts. He’s always cold these days, which he doesn’t understand.

\- Got a light? Forgot mine in the car, - a voice says.

Zayn appears out of nowhere wearing only a t-shirt, well, he must have forgotten it’s November. Louis hands him the lighter, chuckling to himself at Zayn’s absent-mindedness. This guy exists on a whole new level of not giving a shit.

\- You alright, Louis? – he takes a long drag, eyebrows creased, a silent question in his eyes.

\- Yeah, why?

Zayn sighs deeply, looking somewhere in his right as if afraid that someone can overhear them.

\- It’s just…Uhhh, I don’t know man, just let me say it out loud and then either confirm or deny, no in between-ish mumbling, okay?

Louis raises his eyebrows but nods.

\- I feel like there might be something going on between you and, uh… you and Styles? I mean, the tension between you two is through the roof, and has been for a while… Fuck, it’s like I know you two don’t fuck or anything, but I feel _something_ and it’s making me crazy! Care to explain?

Louis might as well have been struck by lightning. He bites his lip, debating whether he should tell anything.

 - Oh wow, look at you, Mr Shrewdness, - he chuckles, trying to dissipate the seriousness of Zayn’s voice. Met with the silent waiting, however, he has to say something.

\- It’s not a conversation I’d like to be having right now, to be honest.

Zayn rolls his eyes.

 - Well, then you can expect me storming into your apartment later today for a boys sleepover, and I’m going to listen to whatever you have to say, but not that you have a right to pass on it.

With that he throws the cigarette butt into the trashcan and gets back into the building, leaving Louis alone, with his cigarette burned down to the filter and soul frozen to permafrost.

 

It’s 9 PM when Zayn finally shows up in his flat, holding two bottles of wine with just one hand like some weird contortionist which is about to perform a trick. Louis would rather him not perform tricks on the only source of relief he has these days, though. They don’t say a word to each other, just crash on the couch and drink their wine from the bottles. Louis loves being able to sit with Zayn in complete darkness like this, drinking; he knows that he’s not going to be judged. Zayn doesn’t judge, and that’s what Louis loves him for. He feels his eyes itch a bit when he realizes that if they didn’t... fix things then, he would’ve no one to talk to now. He lost the only person he wanted to open up to Nick Grimshaw, and it’s no one’s fault but his. There will be many tears shred tonight, Louis feels it coming.

\- So, - Zayn finally says between the sips, - now I feel like I’m ready to listen.

This makes Louis scoff.

\- Are you my therapist now?

 - You know, Louis, you don’t have to tell anything, I jus’ thought that…dunno, jus’ thought that maybe you need to share it with somebody.

\- What exactly is It that I’d want to share with you? – Louis asks, not even trying to hide the sarcasm.

He feels Zayn hit him with his elbow.

\- Whatever, - Zayn says, he now sounds genuinely pissed.

The two of them fall silent after that. Louis can’t start talking for some reason, as soon as he wants to open his mouth, his head instantly gets filled with flashbacks and all he can feel is his heart breaking times and times again. Louis would kill a man just to be able to at the very least have a friendly chat with Harry, to be able to touch him and not get a look full of pain and sadness in return and be a reason he smiles. He never wanted them to fall apart. Nothing feels right since they stopped talking, no matter how hard Louis tries to move on. He feels trapped inside of a big labyrinth, and if there are tips how to get out, Louis doesn’t know them. And if this is how it feels to lose a friend, then he can’t imagine what Harry went through, with his feelings unrequited and rejected.

\- All I know is that I miss him like crazy.

Zayn nods, and Louis wishes he could see the expression on his face, but it’s still dark and no one bothers to turn the lights on. It might be for the best, Louis thinks to himself, feeling a lump forming in his throat.

\- Yeah, can you please enlighten me about what happened between you two?

Louis takes a deep breath.

\- Do I need to tell you that you can’t spread it around?

\- Lou, come on!

\- Yeah, right- Basically Harry told me he was in love with me, but when I told him I couldn’t, you know- love him in that sense, well, I also fucked up saying that I, unlike him, was “normal”, and, - god, Louis didn’t think it’d be so hard to relive those moments again, - and then I just, god, Zayn- I’m such a shit person. I-I kept leaving for the parties when he wanted to talk, I kept leaving him alone in this goddamn flat, alone with his feelings and pain and-

He doesn’t notice when two fat tears roll down his face. He’s kept his thoughts and feelings bottled up for so damn long that he can’t stop pouring his heart out. This is the first time he’s allowing himself to fully feel what he’s suppressed for so long, and it’s overwhelming.

 - Hey, - Zayn reaches out and wipes a tear off his cheek. He sighs deeply.

\- Yeah, I kinda could tell he fell for you the moment he saw you, though.

\- How do you mean?

 - When the band was just starting out, remember that time when none of us really talked to each other?

Louis nods, and Zayn continues.

 - But Harry… he used to be just so open about everything. Really wore his heart on his sleeve. I don’t know, I think everyone could tell he had some sort of infatuation with you, he- he just orbited around you or, shit- I could really tell.

Louis groans and rubs his face.

 - What the hell do you mean he orbited?

\- He was always around. I remember it so well because, well, I kinda hated it. Come on, don’t pretend you had no clue.

- I hadn’t? If what you’re saying is true… This makes me even a shittier person.

\- Cut yourself some slack, not everyone can decode bedroom eyes the way I do.

Louis honestly wants to punch him sometimes.

\- Yeah, you’re awesome, I feel like we’ve established that already, now. What do I do? How do you apologize for a thing like that?

Zayn stays silent for a couple of minutes, sipping his wine.

\- I think…I. Think, that if you really do care about him so much, your heart should know the best way to do it. But I’d say Harry doesn’t look like a person who can do subtle well. So maybe you shouldn’t be subtle as well. I’d say, Blitzkrieg.

\- You think I should just tell him I miss him and stuff? He basically said he didn’t want me as a friend, so I think no point in trying.

Louis is not sure, but Zayn seems to smile at that.

\- Lou, - his voice sounds soft, almost mother-henly, - You’re not telling me the whole truth. How do you expect me to help you if you keep lying about your feelings?

He sounds drunk and out of his mind, just like Louis feels.

That’s how the realization hits him. In his apartment, with Zayn by his side, while his stomach is full of wine.

Imagine there are two fighters on the boxing ring, and while you support one of them, you’re secretly rooting for the other. The other wins and you’re both relieved and frustrated because you lost the money you bet on the first one. But justice won.

Louis covers his face and sighs audibly. He might cry just about now.

\- You might wanna try to say it out loud and it’ll get better, I promise. No pressure though, lad.

\- I think I might be the tiniest bit in love with him, - Louis bites his lip until it hurts just to distract himself from things that are happening in his head.

It makes sense. It actually makes perfect sense right now. That would explain that strange urge to kiss Harry and Louis’ overall tendency to feel so strongly about everything that has to do with Harry.

But doesn’t it make him gay?

\- I think I should go to sleep, - Louis groans and gets up.

His thoughts are a proper mess now. The inside of his head is like a pot with some fucked up stuff brewing in it. Louis never meant to fall in love with anyone, ever, let alone a boy. It’s disgusting for him to even think about a committed relationship, and Harry, on the contrary, used to be all about commitment. Things might have changed since he started going out and hanging round with Nick.

Self-reflection never was Louis’ weak point, so naturally, he understands that he could change things if he tried. On the other hand, admitting his feelings for Harry would mean admitting being gay, these two things are interdependent.

Louis also doesn’t like beating around the bush. Burying his face deeper in the cold side of his pillow, he promises himself that if he still feels the same tomorrow morning, he’s going to go out of his way to tell Harry the words he should’ve said a long time ago. Even if it scares him to death.

                                                                ***

_Var – In Your Arms_

The house is packed with people Louis doesn’t know. He’s already had three shots and he’s not even crossed the hall. As far as Louis knows, it’s Grimshaw’s house, and he’s only here to find Harry. The only party he’d never go to if it wasn’t urgent.

He tries to find any familiar faces in the crowd, but the only person he actually recognizes is Nick himself, making Louis’ blood fill with distaste and disgust. However, he doesn’t seem to have any other choice, so he makes a beeline for himself, rubbing shoulders with some sweaty strangers; it’s hardly any bother to him though.

\- Hey, - he says as nonchalant as he can, - Is Harry here?

Nick turns to him and gives him this head-to-toe examination as if mocking him. He squints, probably debating on whether he should tell Louis anything. Eventually, he shrugs, taking a long drag and blinking slowly.

\- Dunno… Should be here. What’s up?

\- Never mind, - Louis says.

He quickly turns away and leaves. He doesn’t really know where to look for Harry for this house seems enormous. Suddenly the room starts spinning, which probably has everything to do with those goddamn shots and the music that threatens to split Louis’ brain in half with its crazy beat.

He blows the bang off his sweaty forehead. Desperation washes over him in waves, but Louis keeps pushing those sweaty bodies away, making his way upstairs. Fuck Nick Grimshaw.

It’s a lot quieter upstairs. Louis sees some couple sneak into one of the bedrooms down the hallway; the door behind them closes and the drunk giggles coming from the room are a clear indication of a good time they’re about to have. The boy sighs softly.

He starts crossing the hall, not really hoping to find Harry in one of those rooms. He pulls his hand across the wall, the texture of wallpaper then wood then wallpaper then wood again is somehow soothing, but then his hand drops because one of the doors is open.

Louis walks in absent-mindedly. The alcohol has dissolved in his blood, making everything move slowly around him. There is some emptiness in his head, a total lack of thoughts. Only now does he notice that the interior design of the house is actually very pretty. Big spacious rooms, high ceilings, chandeliers, a fireplace, molding here and there, old vintage armchairs and all that fancy stuff. Basically a big luxury hotel. Louis stops to light a cigarette. He clicks the lighter but freezes with a cigarette between his lips.

Harry stands still in the middle of the room. He stares at the fireplace as if hypnotized by the fire and doesn’t even notice Louis entering the room.

Louis uses this moment to properly take the boy in. Harry’s curls are disheveled, some are falling on his face. He wears what looks like an oversized satin shirt tucked into his black jeans. His fancy boots are a far cry from what he used to wear just 6 months ago. Harry looks more beautiful than ever.

\- Hey, - he half-whispers, his voice cracking immediately.

Harry slowly turns to Louis. Judging by the look on his face, he is surprised. He nods slowly, his eyes dart all over Louis. The latter takes a few steps closer so that he can really see Harry’s face. Now he understands.

It's like coming back from war only to find your home in ruins, completely destroyed and what's left is beyond repair. Harry’s eyes are so empty, it sends chills down Louis’ spine. His pupils are dilated to the point where you can’t really see the green.

Louis’ scared to even imagine what he took that made his eyes, ever so lively and kind, lose its sparkle.

\- Are you okay? – he asks.

\- What are you doing here? – Harry dodges his question like they are having an interview.

\- I was looking for you, - Louis manages, the thickness of his own voice scares him.

He didn’t realize how much he missed Harry’s curly head, his voice, his smell, all those things he took for granted. God, Louis just wants to kiss him here and now, but sadly, it won’t fix things. 

He stands so close to Harry that he can see the light from the fire dancing on his face, his eyes especially, they are glistening in the dark, driving Louis absolutely crazy.

\- No, - he hears Harry murmur.

\- What?..

\- No, Louis, - he keeps talking softly, but it doesn’t sound tranquilizing at all, - you think I haven’t hurt bad enough already?

 - I think you deserve to know the truth, - Louis says. He almost feels heartbroken on Harry’s behalf.

\- Shut up and leave me with my truth, - Harry slowly drawls, the drugs in his blood making him speak even slower. He doesn’t sound angry, there’s no emotion in his voice whatsoever.

\- Harry, please…

Harry stares at him, still and silent, not moving an inch from where he stands. There’s a sudden change in his emotions as if someone turned the light on in his head. His eyes close and when they open again, tears are rolling down his cheeks. Harry shakes his head, still struggling to say anything coherent. Eventually, he palms his face and his starts shaking so hard that Louis is afraid that he’s going to fall down. His heart is shattering as if he feels all the pain Harry’s enduring.

He can’t help pulling the boy into a hug. Harry’s gotten even taller since they last had any physical contact the likes of it. They stand like this for a while, Harry’s whimpering sounds so dangerously close.

Louis steps back a little and takes Harry’s hands in his own, taking them off of his face. His brain screams “abort the mission”, but he ignores it completely.

He looks in Harry’s eyes, red and puffy from crying, but for the first time since forever he sees the eyes he must’ve fallen in love with. The kind, yet vulnerable eyes that scream Louis’ name.

Their mouths meet in a perfect synch. Harry tastes like waking up to reality after a bad dream. He doesn’t really think his actions through, there’s no place for rationality in his mind right now. He puts his hands behind Harry’s neck, trying to get as close as he physically can, and Harry palms Louis’ face, and it doesn’t feel real at all.

Just as Louis tries to deepen the kiss, Harry pulls away.

He looks terrified. He shakes his head again, as if to get rid of a nightmare, and all but shoves Louis on his way out of the room. He’s literally running away.

This time Louis isn’t giving up. At the very least he owes an apology. A long overdue one.


	11. it takes a bit more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> music to listen to while reading:  
> the 1975 - loving someone  
> the 1975 - you  
> the 1975 - please be naked  
> snow patrol - chasing cars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just when you thought you've seen the last of me... I'm a bad bitch you can't kill me!
> 
> haha I'm joking. as per usual, I don't have an explanation for my absence. I've not been right and now I am.  
> I hope you'll enjoy this one.

It’s dark outside, and the music is so loud Louis thinks the whole of Hampstead can hear it. His heart is beating hard somewhere in his throat, he can’t swallow it down, he can’t get rid of nausea.

He finds himself in the parking lot, so the first thing he does is scanning through it in hopes of finding Harry’s car. He starts with the entrance and with each car, just as black and plain as the previous one, he grows more and more hopeless. When he finally gets to the end of the lot, he spots the familiar one. It’s conveniently parked in a place it’s hardly seen, shaded by a huge tree and virtually undiscoverable if you’re not trying hard enough.

With a heavy heart, Louis approaches the car. He can’t see the driver’s seat and if there’s anyone in there, so he goes straight to the passenger seat and opens the door.

The music is playing softly, something by The 1975 with how ambient and hypnotizing this is.

Louis sits there and waits for… For what? He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know where to start. Harry doesn’t even turn his head to see Louis, he just keeps staring into the distance.

\- Harry, - he says.

Silence.

-  Please give me a chance. I need to… um, I owe you an explanation. I-I was so fucking wrong. About everything. I didn’t mean to put you through all this, - Louis takes a deep breath, his voice shakes with absolute terror.

\- I’m a coward, Harry. It’s only now that I start to understand how hard it is to be brave. All those years I was so afraid of my own feelings, I almost forgot who I was, - he goes on, finally looking at Harry’s face.

 - And then there were you. It was you who made me realize. I’m sorry it took me so long, but- but the last thing that I wanted was to hurt you, Harry, I… I’ve never met anyone quite like… you in my life. It’s…

Suddenly, Harry brings his index finger to his lips and cranks the dial to the right.

\- That’s my favorite one.

_“And you're a liar_

_At least all of your friends are_

_And so am I_

_Just typically drowned in my car_

_It's my party_

_And I'll cry to the end_

_You must try harder_

_Than kissing all of my friends, you_

_It takes a bit more.”_

Louis forgets how to breathe for a minute or two. He just sits there wondering if Harry even heard all the things he’s said to him. Or if he’s still so fucking high he doesn’t follow.

It fucking hurts. Louis just spilled his guts to the most important person in his life and he just doesn’t care. The music gains crescendo, Matt’s shrill vocals cutting through Louis’ soul and slicing it open.

_“And you're alive_

_At least as far as I can tell you are_

_And so am I_

_You beat me down and then we're back to my car_

_And it's so ironic_

_How it's only been a year_

_And it's not my fault_

_That I fucked everybody here”._

Louis can’t take it anymore. Moving erratically, he turns the music down, cranking the dial violently.

\- Would you listen to me, please? – he speaks up, trying to mask his exasperation.

Harry turns to him slowly with a sick smile on his face.

\- Listen to you? Are you kidding me? – he starts laughing a bit, tears still filling his eyes, - where were YOU when I asked you to listen? Where were YOU when I fucking needed you, Louis? Off, that’s what you were, off to fuck with Zayn or whoever makes it to your… squad, - he spits out, accentuating the last word with the disgust in his voice, - You were not fucking there for me when I needed you! You played with me as if I was a toy or something and then you got bored of me and threw me the fuck away.

Harry is properly crying now, screaming like Louis has never seen him do before. He bites his lip and tries hard not to cry himself. This is Harry calling him out and being high, and Louis is broken and confused.

\- Do you have any idea of how I felt? How you made me feel? – Harry hisses, narrowing his eyes. – I hated you, but I hated myself even more. You were my best friend, _my person_ , and you said there was something wrong with me, and now you have the fucking guts to say… Fuck you, Louis. For making me think I was impossible to love.

He now got close to Louis, almost in his face, so close that Louis could feel his hot breath on his neck and see his wet eyelashes.

Louis is drunk, emotionally exhausted, and he can’t get his point across. So when his pent-up frustration, anger, sadness and something like homesickness get the best of him, he pushes Harry back onto his seat.

He can’t fucking take it. It’s all too much.

He then pushes his own body forward and his lips meet Harry’s. He doesn’t want anything else right now. He can’t think. He wants to feel him. To shut him up and make him feel, make him understand.

Harry’s mouth pushes against his violently. There’s so much tongue involved, so soon. Louis cups Harry’s face with his hands and he can’t hear anything besides his own heartbeat and the music that’s playing quietly somewhere in the background, too far away.

_For you are not beside but within me._

 

It’s so hot in this goddamn car, but neither of them cares. Harry letting Louis kiss himself doesn’t mean redemption. But it means something.

Louis doesn’t know how he ends up in Harry’s lap. He sits on top of him, with his back against the wheel, but he only registers Harry’s body and nothing else. It’s the first time that they kiss like that, like they are hungry, like their whole existence depends on this kiss. Louis’ hands are in Harry’s hair and he can’t stop pulling, he can’t stop running through his curls. He wants to kiss his neck and so he does, Harry puts his head back eagerly, giving access, whimpering quietly into the darkness of the night.

At some point Louis becomes painfully aware of Harry’s dick pressing against the underside of his thigh and things get too much. Louis knows they shouldn’t be going this far right now, but it feels as if this car was going at 180 mph down the highway and the brakes were broken.

\- Want all of you, - he whispers into Harry’s ear and his own voice sends shivers down his body.

Then he pulls away.

Harry blinks slowly, he looks messy and very beautiful at the same time, with his eyes shiny and lips raw red.

\- Lou, please, - his voice trembles, - please don’t stop, please don’t… go. I- Please, I can’t…

\- Let’s go home, Harry, - Louis murmurs, pushing an unruly curl away from Harry’s face, - Do you want to?

Harry’s chest is rising and falling fast, he’s still out of breath, but he manages a sad smile, he sniffs and goes to start the car, but Louis catches his hand in the air. And he can’t help but hold it longer than necessary.

\- We’re both drunk, to say the least. It’s better if I call the driver, yeah?

Harry sniffs again and nods. He’s still trembling a little and his cheeks are wet but there’s definitely a shift on his side. He watches as Louis calls up the driver and lights up a cigarette. He used to hate the smoke.

 

 

 

It’s early in the morning when they make it to their old flat. The sun is only beginning to rise and it paints the space dusty pink. It feels safe inside.

Harry spent the ride home with his face against Louis’ neck and his arms around him. Harry’s always had the way of expressing so much with the simplest of gestures. For the first time in what feels like over a year Louis feels the familiar tenderness crawling its way inside his heart. He feels so much for Harry. There must be a universe inside his heart named after Harry.

Harry is too sleepy to walk and Louis has to carry him to the bedroom. Not that he minds it, of course. It’s many months of missed touches and glances that he missed. Now he thinks he might never get enough.

 

 

It’s when he lays down and faces Harry that he realizes that laying here finally feels right again. It’s his bedroom per se, but Harry used to always sneak in and they would spend hours just reading to each other or watching something stupid on TV. Or they could do their own things and still enjoy each other’s company. So it never felt right being here without Harry.

Louis isn’t sure Harry didn’t fall asleep, but he tries it.

\- Hey, love, - he murmurs.

Harry slightly opens his eyes. The light from the outside makes his cheeks look pink. He’s tired, wrecked, coming off his high, but he still looks like the prettiest rose. Louis can’t help admiring him. How could he not decipher what he felt for this beautiful boy? How could he let him go?

\- I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, - Louis whispers, watching Harry’s face intently.

Harry moves closer to Louis and kisses him on his forehead. His lips are warm and it feels like summer. And it’s a lot, because the last 12 months were all Decembers to Louis.

 

_Snow Patrol – Chasing Cars_

 

When Louis wakes up, it’s because Harry is rummaging through the pockets of his own jeans, making tiny whimpering noises. With a loud sigh of disenchantment, he sits down on the bed and runs his fingers through his hair.

\- Hey, - Louis says, voice croaky and low.

Harry turns around slowly and meets his stare. He looks even more tired than he was the night before. There are deep shadows falling under his eyes and his eyes are still as sad.

- You’re alright? – Louis asks, reaching out to Harry with his hand still under the blanket.

Harry gives a little nod. Louis sits up and closer to him, some subconscious need to touch him forms in him, and it feels like his heart grows bigger with every minute.

\- I have to… I’m not feeling very well. I- I don’t have my pills with me, so I can’t- really get it together, - Harry mutters, shying away from Louis’ touch.

\- What pills are you talking about? Maybe I can find something at home, where does it hurt?

Harry stretches his lips in a smile, weary and watery. He looks so broken from within, something obviously bothering him.

\- Sometimes it hurts in places you can’t really point to, - Harry says.

The instant Harry says these words Louis feels so helpless. Why does he always feel so helpless whenever it comes to Harry?

\- How- Can I help you in any way? Harry, love, listen. I want to help you. Would you tell me how to do that?

Harry then looks him straight in the eye.

\- I’m not the same person you think you liked a year ago. You won’t like this, - he vaguely gestures to himself, - you don’t want to get involved in this mess.

Louis takes a deep breath and even though he’s afraid of being rejected again, he reaches out for Harry’s hand. Harry lets him take it this time.

\- H, I know I’ve put you through so much pain. I’m so sorry you’ve felt neglected and lonely and I’m taking all the blame. I was a total asshole. But, - he breathes out and tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, - but I need to know…um, I need to know if you still need me in your life. That’s what matters the most. Cause if by any chance, you do, I’ll stay no matter what.

Harry bites his lip violently, but his hand still stays in Louis’.

\- You don’t know what you are talking about. Lou, - he blinks rapidly as if to get rid of the tears, - I forgive you if that’s what you’re asking. There’s no way I couldn’t. But saying that you’ll stay is a bold thing to say. I’m, - his voice cracks and the tears fall freely now.

\- My own mom doesn’t want to talk to me, and you think you can fix things?

Louis raises his eyebrows in surprise.

\- Why, what happened?

Harry chuckles bitterly and pulls his hand away.

\- Turns out, the only person that’s happy about those pills is me.

\- Wait, - Louis sits still and he feels like every muscle in his body is made of lead, - are you saying…

\- I don’t wanna talk about it with you. Or anyone for that matter. Just drop it for now and think about your words again.

Louis closes his eyes for a while and just breathes the moment down. So Harry’s an addict now. That’s a lot to stomach, and Louis doesn’t understand if Harry sees it as a problem at all. The news is heart-wrenching but he knows that it’s best to drop the topic for now.

They fall silent after that, Louis just listening to the sounds of the big city waking up, cars roaming around and some construction going on. It puts his mind at ease a little bit.

\- I’m not leaving you, Harry. Not now, not ever.

Harry looks at him now, eyes shiny and wide, like he is genuinely surprised to hear that. He breathes heavily, eyes darting all over Louis’ face as if he’s searching for some signs that Louis might not be honest.

\- Oh, - is all he says.

Louis then pulls him into a hug and Harry lets himself be pulled rather eagerly. Louis lays back on the sheets, still with Harry in his arms. They lay like this for a while, savoring the moment. Right now neither of them feels like discussing anything. You just know in the moments like this you just want to exchange warmth with the person you care about, to breathe in the same air as they do. Louis wants to give Harry the comfort he needs, even if he doesn’t fully understand how to go about it.

Harry tightly grips him by his shirt, pressing his whole body against him like he would rather lay here forever.

Louis doesn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace. The things Harry’s told him undoubtedly make him worried, but at least Harry’s here with him right now and it’s Louis’ body against his and not somebody else’s. At least he can kiss his hair and pull him closer. Louis wants to tell Harry how he makes him feel but somehow the words are left stuck in his throat. Maybe it’s too soon yet.

Louis’ phone starts ringing and it’s Liam.

\- Hey Louis, what’s up, - he says and without further ado, he continues, - do you happen to know where Harry is?

\- Ummm, - Louis thinks for a second until he sees that Harry nods to him, having heard Liam’s question.

\- Yeah, I- he clears his throat, - he’s with me.

There’s a brief pause on the other end.

\- Oh, - Liam seems surprised, - okay, well… Tell him that, um, Nick called. Nick Grimshaw, he says he can’t reach him-

\- I will. Anything else? – his voice is stone cold.

\- No, - Liam chuckles, - um, is Harry… okay?

\- He’s all right.

\- Well, see ya, pal, - Liam says and hangs up.

Harry props himself on his elbows and looks at Louis with a silent question in his eyes.

\- Nick is looking for you. I guess you should call him, - Louis says, completely aware of how bitter he sounds.

\- Lou…

\- No, it’s fine. You should really call him, he must be worried, - Louis shrugs.

He can’t afford getting jealous right now, this wouldn’t help him earn Harry’s trust. But he can’t help himself. Nick is so toxic. Louis is sure if he was to bet that it was Nick who dragged Harry into the world of drugs, he would win. But he also understands that he doesn’t have a say in who Harry hangs out with. Not after what he’s done to him.

Harry gives him a strange look, picks up the phone and walks out the door.

 

 

When he gets back 5 minutes later, he finds Louis texting, but the latter instantly puts the phone down when Harry appears in the doorway.

\- By the way, - Harry says, - thank you. For, you know… not letting it go too far yesterday. And for not taking advantage of the situation. It’s rare, - he whispers the last word as if it wasn’t meant to be heard at all.

The mere implication of those words makes Louis feel sick. His heart hurts at the thought that Harry could’ve possibly been taken advantage of.

\- I- I would never, Harry, - he says softly, trying not to show how much he’s affected by Harry’s words.

\- I know, - Harry smiles weakly, - it’s just, I would regret it if we, um, did this before we could discuss things, kinda sort them out? It would only make everything even more complicated.

With that, Harry buttons his shirt and puts his shoes on.

\- I, um, gotta go. I want to go back to my place before, - he averts his eyes, - I, um, have to meet up with someone. See you tonight?

Louis tries his best to muster a smile.

\- Yeah, sure. Text me when you’re free.

Harry shortens the distance between them and gives Louis a peck on the cheek.

\- We’re gonna talk tonight, okay? I just need to feel better to be able to handle this conversation.

Louis nods slowly and then before Harry has time to pull away, kisses him back on the lips.

Harry smiles wide for the first time in what feels like forever.

\- Don’t make it even harder for me to leave, - he chuckles, pressing his own fingers to his lips.

After that, he leaves. Yet again Louis is left wondering. It’s not usual. He doesn’t have any idea about what he should do. There are so many questions in his head and he only hopes that Harry answers at least some of them.

 

_I don't quite know_   
_How to say_   
_How I feel_

_Those three words_   
_Are said too much_   
_They're not enough_


End file.
